A year ago, I could never have guessed where I would be standing today.
Not physically, but as a parent and child.
About a year ago, my husband’s brother unexpectedly died. My brother-in-law’s death turned our existence upside down in every sense of the word.  
Bryan was the primary caregiver and assistant for my in-laws. He lived in the same town and assisted with needs around the house, errands or doctor’s visits. 
When he died, my husband was the only living offspring, and many of the responsibilities Bryan handled naturally fell to my husband. 
My sister often says ‘You don’t know what you don’t know.’
We didn’t know anything at that point. 
We had no concept of the details of the daily, weekly or monthly needs of my husband’s parents. 
After several chaotic months, someone told me there is a term for what we were experiencing: the sandwich generation.
Sounds yummy, right?
It’s not. 
Essentially, it’s when adult children are in the process of raising their own children, but are also put in a position where their parents’ independence isn’t what it once was.
Our son is a teenager and preparing to enter junior-senior high school this week. The last week has been all about back-to-school and all of the “lasts” of summer. 
On the other hand, we’ve also been coordinating with home health nurses about medical issues as they arise. Following up. Making strongly worded requests. 
I do not know exactly how my husband feels. I don’t imagine I will until I walk this path with my parents. I imagine as the child, it’s a fine line to walk. As a daughter-in-law, it is a doubly fine line. I want to allow my husband’s family their autonomy, yet at the same time, my husband driving three hours one way to take his dad to get a haircut isn’t something that can happen on a weekly basis. 
We have had to encourage independence where it is possible, but also fill the gaps in care when we see them. 
Sometimes the decisions are easy ones to make. Other times, I walk around for days with a queasiness in the pit of my stomach. 
For some reason, it’s easy to tell our son what to do — simply put, he’s our son. But when we need to tell someone’s parents what to do ... it isn’t as easy. 
What gives us the right? Will the suggestion be viewed as not respecting our elders? What sort of objections might our octogenarian family members have?
From conversations with my mom, I know both of my parents navigated this course, yet it wasn’t until I was thrust in those uncharted waters in the last 12 months that I had any sense of the storm they must have walked through during my late high school and college years. 
I’m glad to be able to ask my own parents questions about how they navigated aging parents while raising their own children. 
Sometimes, there are no answers. Others, it’s the easily overlooked, such as “write a letter instead of calling if they can’t hear you on the phone.”
But mostly, it’s allowed me to experience gratitude for this season of life I have with my parents ... and reminds me to savor it.

Bonar is the editor/publisher of the I-R and can be reached at kbonar@indyrepnews.com.