By Mark Friedman
At 62, I imagined I would be easing into a different chapter – mentoring, traveling, enjoying grandchildren, perhaps scaling back professionally. Instead, like a growing number of us, I live in the “middle,” holding together three worlds at once: my careers, my immediate families, and my parents now in their 90s whose needs are no longer occasional – but ongoing.
As both an owner of an in-home senior care agency and an adult child supporting 90-year-old parents through increasingly complex aging challenges (together with my siblings), I live this tension daily. What follows is not theory. It is the lived reality of standing on both sides of eldercare – as a provider and as son.
The scenario: When aging stops being abstract
At 90, aging is no longer about “slowing down.” For some it is about fragility, unpredictability, and cumulative loss. Some individuals experience falls that don’t quite result in fractures but are a predictor of what comes next, which can include reduced confidence and possibly another fall. Medication lists may grow longer, or we forget or chose not to take meds. Hospitalizations may be labeled “minor,” yet each one leaves less physical and cognitive reserve.
For the adult child, the shift is subtle, at first a few more doctor’s appointments. A little more oversight of finances. Some safety modifications at home. Then oversight becomes coordination. Coordination becomes management. Management becomes responsibility.
Responsibility rarely fits neatly into a calendar. It arrives at 3:30 a.m. with a confused phone call. It appears during your board meeting or while you are driving to the airport for a much-needed vacation. You become the care coordinator, medication monitor, transportation director, and emotional anchor – all while maintaining your professional and family roles. And, I am lucky. I have willing parents, engaged and actively involved siblings. We did the planning and the roles and responsibilities of who does what.
For anyone in this role, you are no longer simply a son or daughter. You are the safety net, the caregiver, the caretaker.
The view from the adult child: Love, guilt, and the myth of balance
From the outside, the adult child may be very capable but possibly burning out. We have navigated careers, raised families, built businesses. We know how to manage complexity. Eldercare is not simply a logistical challenge. It is emotionally draining.
There is guilt when work demands attention, but you are not physically present, when you engage outside help, or when you feel resentful. There is exhaustion – the mental load of remembering appointments, monitoring medications, watching for cognitive shifts, anticipating the next crisis. And, there is the hardest truth: you cannot fully succeed in every role simultaneously. You will miss something. You will disappoint someone. You will feel stretched thin.
The myth is that better time management will create perfect balance. The reality is that caregiving at this stage is less about balance and more about tradeoffs. Every week requires decisions about where your attention goes. Over time, the definition of success shifts. Success becomes preventing crises instead of reacting to them. It becomes preserving dignity rather than preserving perfection. It becomes accepting help instead of carrying everything alone.
The view from the aging parents: Fear, loss, and the fight for control
It is easy to focus only on the burden from the adult child’s perspective. But at 90, aging carries its own quiet grief.
There is loss of physical certainty. Loss of peers. Loss of independence. Loss of familiar roles For parents who once made decisions, managed households, and cared for others, accepting help can feel like surrender. When a child reviews finances, questions driving, or manages medications, what feels like “support” to the child can feel like “erosion” to the parent.
Resistance is often misunderstood. It is not simply stubbornness; it is fear – fear of losing control, of being a burden. Parents may oscillate between gratitude and defensiveness. One day they thank you deeply. The next day they push back.
Understanding this duality changes conversations. When you recognize that resistance is grief in disguise, your tone softens. Decisions become collaborative. Language shifts from “You can’t” to “How do we make this safer together?” Dignity becomes the central goal.
The combined learnings: How it changes me as a son and an agency owner
Living on both sides of eldercare has reshaped how I think about responsibility and support.
As a son, I have learned that control is an illusion; preparedness is not. Waiting for a crisis is the most expensive strategy emotionally and financially. Engaging outside expertise is not a failure of family; it is an extension of reach and capability.
As an agency owner, I see adult children differently. They are not simply decision-makers. They are professionals and parents silently carrying enormous weight. They are often exhausted before they ever call for help.
The past 17 years in eldercare prepared me, but this deeper hands-on has taken this to a new level. We must support the entire family system, not just the senior. We communicate proactively. We normalize caregiver stress. We design care plans that preserve autonomy wherever possible while reducing risk.
Most importantly, I have confirmed that the goal must be to build a circle of care strong enough that no one person collapses under the weight.
For the adult child in their 60s, this role is both privilege and pressure. It is a privilege to stand beside parents who have reached 90. It is pressure to help them age safely, respectfully, and with dignity while still living your own life.
There is no perfect balance. There is only intentional design – honest conversations, shared responsibility, professional support when needed, and compassion for yourself.
Caring for aging parents is not simply an obligation. It is an opportunity. It clarifies values. It deepens empathy and patience.
There is not a single aspect of supporting my parents that has been a surprise. I have supported countless families during the last 17 years, having provided approximately 2 million hours of care for more than 1,500 individuals and their families. And yet, the most difficult step is admitting that love does not require doing everything yourself. I am forever grateful to the team effort I have with my siblings. But not everyone has a team.
This has been the most valuable learning for me as a professional, my agency and I must constantly strive to be the best, most reliable member of your team. Our own capabilities and skills combined with that of our partners in care can change the trajectory of aging for you or your loved one. The middle years may not be easier than we expected. Approached thoughtfully, they can be more meaningful than we imagined. This is the privilege of care and one I personally am thrilled to be blessed with. Our learnings are your resources.
About the Author: Mark Friedman is the owner and Chief Education Officer of Senior Helpers Boston and South Shore. Passionate about seniors and healthcare, the goal of his agency is to change the trajectory of aging for his clients and their families first by delivering an exceptional homecare experience in a combination of highly trained and high-touch caregivers, and second by providing education and guidance with and connection to resources and services in the 43 communities his company serves. Contact Mark at MFriedman@SeniorHelpers.com or visit www.SeniorHelpersBoston.com.
