Traveling with Seniors: A Lesson in Patience and Humility

The Folks and Me at Monument Valley

Togethering, a term coined not long after 9/11, has gained momentum over these past years as families and friends enjoy the bonds created by spending vacations together. Multi-generational traveling has become more commonplace than ever as more and more families hit the road with grandma and grandpa in tow. Parents with young children seem well-equipped to deal with the needs and demands of their little ones while away from home. They’re just basically taking their show on the road since they’re already well accustomed to taking care of their kids at home. Sure, certain adjustments have to be made but most people know their children well enough to be able to make them “happy campers” when traveling. But what about our aging parents’ needs? Do we know how to make a trip smooth sailing for them?

Not always. And I’m speaking from first-hand experience.

What a shock I had this past fall when I embarked upon two weeks of travel, most of which involved a major road trip through the Southwest, with my parents. Fortunately it was just the three of us, so our travels were not further complicated with the needs of youngsters. But even so, traveling with the two of them—whose average age is eighty—presented daily challenges above and beyond those I encounter during my own travel adventures.

I found myself constantly shaking my head about my cluelessness. How could I not have made sure that each of my father’s rooms had handicapped access? Why did I not realize that a quaint little B & B in a remote southern Utah town would offer less senior-friendly amenities than a cookie cutter motel off the highway? What’s most surprising is that I thought I knew my parents really well, I thought I had fully anticipated their needs. I had had many extended visits with them in recent years—spending long periods of time with them was not new to me.

Yet I realized that being with them at home is entirely different than being with them on a trip. First of all, old people thrive on routine, something that’s a near impossibility when traveling, especially if you’re changing hotels and locales every couple of nights. Plus I discovered that there’s a part of me that wants to deny that my parents are aging, that they can’t get around the way they have in the past. And at this stage of their lives, even the lapse of six months since I last saw them can make a difference. Mundane activities such as how far they can walk without having to sit down for a rest can easily change at an advanced age.

In my own defense, I have to admit that my impressions of my parents are often falsified by their own active lives. My dad, at eighty-four, still gets on his treadmill every day. How was I to know that walking around the rim of the Grand Canyon (on the pavement) for just ten minutes would rival his hour-long workouts? It occurred to me that his familiarity with the Grand Canyon paled in comparison with the comfort zone he was accustomed to on his treadmill: Here, as much as he was in awe of the views, he had to deal with an unfamiliar surface, variable lighting and the lack of handrails to support his every step. Familiarity is, in fact, an elderly person’s best friend. That’s partly why he feels comfortable in his bathrooms at home, neither of which is handicap accessible per se. (That and the fact that I often see my dad as younger than he really is did not prompt me to assure a handicapped room for him. I suppose part of me thought he might be insulted by that—but in the end, that was what he preferred.) As for my mom, she’s a big doer, especially when it comes to driving (great attribute for a road trip) and going out and about to have fun. But her walking was highly limited as well, an impediment that had me rethinking plans at every turn.

All-in-all, I felt like I constantly needed to dial down my speed, something that will surely make those close to me laugh since I’m already one of the slowest persons on earth. But there’s no going fast with old folks. Patience is key. You also have to do your best to observe routines, something that requires considerable effort as you travel from one place to the next, coming upon the unexpected on a daily basis. All three of us declared to each other throughout our nearly 2,000-mile two-week western jamboree that next time we’d take a cruise. Indeed we will but for this big bonanza, there was no other way to immerse ourselves in the glory of some of America’s finest scenery. The Grand Canyon was on my dad’s bucket list, Monument Valley represented a wondrous site along the way and all the laughs, memorable meals and oohs and aahs we shared throughout our trip were just an expression of our togethering, the joy we felt about taking it all in together.

More Insight for Traveling with Seniors
You’ll find all kinds of tips for Senior Travel on the Internet, most of which I found to be similar to travel tips for people of all ages. There’s nothing I could have read on the sites I came across that would have prepared me for my travels with my parents. I had already taken so much into account including drive times between destinations, making sure to respect regular meal times, elevations in the mountains and much more. Mom did her share by packing every imaginable necessary article of clothing, accessory, toiletry item, drug and more. Even her handicapped parking pass from home was remembered. And dad’s sleep machine was carted out and installed in every room, unplugging clock radios and rearranging furniture along the way. But there was so much more that none of us had considered, so much that could have become an issue had we displayed less patience and flexibility with ourselves, each other and our surroundings. As much as we were thrilled, for example, with the huge SUV we rented, the sheer height of the vehicle made getting in and out of it a big production. (I quickly became accustomed to standing at the ready, however, since both my parents’ also appreciated help buckling themselves in and out of the car.) We grappled with similar difficulties when faced with unusually high beds in certain places of lodging and a never-ending array of hard-to-open packages of soap, coffee and other easily accessible everyday items that most of us take for granted. As someone once said, “Life is a long lesson in humility.” And I’d add, that getting old and helping old people—especially loved ones—is one of the biggest lessons in humility of all.