The shifting demographic landscape has cemented an invisible yet overwhelming reality: the plight of the 'sandwich generation'. These are middle-aged adults caught in a constant tug-of-war between the demands of their careers, raising their own children, and now, caring for parents who are beginning to lose their independence.
To give a voice to an experience that is as widespread as it is rarely discussed, Dr Feliciano Villar—Professor of Developmental Psychology at the University of Barcelona—has published a book in which he seamlessly weaves clinical insight with his own personal experience.
"My area of specialisation is the psychology of ageing, which I've worked in for 25 years. However, facing my own parents' growing fragility gave me a completely different, everyday, first-person perspective on the subject," he says. "It forced me to rethink my role as a son—what it actually was, what it should be, and how I could best support them through the ageing process.
"Saying things like, 'My parents have become the children now' is a dangerous way to look at the relationship"
"I realised that, as a father, I had plenty of resources to help guide and raise my children. But as an adult child, there's surprisingly little advice on how to support your parents as they age, even though it’s an experience almost all of us will go through."
We spoke to the author about the fine line between caring and overstepping, the dangers of infantilising our elders, and how to truly enjoy their company by accepting their vulnerability—before it's too late.
Why do we find it so difficult to accept and prepare for our parents ageing, when it's simply a fact of life?
"For several reasons. First of all, we tend to take our parents for granted. We view them as strong and entirely self-sufficient, because that's how they've been our whole lives. Watching that strength fade—at a time when we're already juggling career demands and raising our own children—adds a whole new layer of tension and anxiety to our lives.
© Getty Images"On top of that, we usually share a deeply emotional bond with our parents. Their decline confronts us, perhaps for the very first time, with the painful reality that the people we love most can suffer—and, ultimately, it forces us to face up to the reality of death itself."
The 'sandwich generation' is squeezed between raising children, as well as managing careers, and caring for ageing parents. What emotionally defines people at this stage of life?
"Middle age—roughly between age 40 and our late 50s or early 60s—is traditionally seen as the prime of life. It's supposed to be the moment we hit our peak in terms of our capabilities and responsibilities, enjoying a sense of independence and self-sufficiency.
Nobody teaches us how to parent our own parents, nor how to manage the 'silent grief' of watching the very people who were once our rock begin to decline
"The reality, however, is often quite different. Midlife brings a heavy load of competing demands and commitments across every area of life, with multiple people relying on us all at once. Many find this period deeply stressful, accompanied by a lingering sense of frustration at being unable to juggle it all or live up to expectations. In that high-pressure environment, a parent’s declining health becomes yet another source of worry—only heightening the feeling that you’re spread far too thin and letting everyone down.
"At the same time, midlife often triggers a moment of reckoning. We begin to ask ourselves whether we’ve actually become the person we wanted to be, and whether our original goals are still achievable—or even relevant. Realising that life is vastly different, and perhaps far less fulfilling, than we had envisioned can spark a quiet crisis, prompting people to make drastic life changes or reluctantly come to terms with their disappointments."
How do you hit the right balance between offering support and overstepping with ageing parents? You talk about the 'fine line between caring and invading'—how can we spot when we've crossed it?
"We overstep when—usually completely unintentionally and with the best of motives—we start making decisions about our parents' lives without actually consulting them. Or when we step in with unsolicited help that unwittingly pushes them into a position of weakness and dependency.
"It comes down to empathy: prioritising their well-being, but always keeping them involved in the conversation. We must make ourselves available so they know they can rely on us, while being clear and honest about our own concerns. We need to offer our perspective without assuming it's the absolute truth, respecting that they are adults who still have autonomy over their own lives."
"Naturally, if physical or mental frailty worsens, the need for more direct support of our parents grows. But even then, we should always ask them how much help they actually want, and how they would prefer us to provide it"
When a parent's decline worsens, adult children often have to restructure their own lives around caregiving. How do we process the 'silent grief' for parents they used to be, while learning to accept who they are today?
"It's a painful transition. So many of the changes that come with growing older involve a loss of independence—watching our parents lose abilities they once had and having to step back from things that were second nature to them. Seeing the people we love decline is incredibly tough, though true 'anticipatory grief' generally sets in when there is a terminal illness or severe dependency that makes the end feel near.
"Ultimately, we need to accept the inevitable process and make the most of what our parents can still share with us. Regardless of their physical or mental limitations, every person still has something to offer. We have to recalibrate the relationship so we aren't condescending—positioning ourselves as the 'capable ones' who know best—but rather staying open to what our parents bring to our lives at every stage. Experiencing that bond, in itself, is deeply rewarding."
© Getty ImagesWhat emotions typically surface in adult children when they first notice signs of frailty in their parents?
"While every family dynamic is different, the initial reaction is almost always anxiety. This often drives children to react quickly—and sometimes hastily—in an attempt to 'fix' things, taking charge of how their parents should live and dictating what they can or can't do, largely to regain a sense of control.
"As that frailty advances, adult children often find themselves having to restructure their own lives to accommodate caregiving. If the end feels near, many experience the anticipatory grief—mourning the loss of the vibrant parents they once knew. Sadly, this sorrow can sometimes stop them from making the most of the time they have left, enjoying their parents as they are now and appreciating the new depth in their relationship."
"We can also view their vulnerability as an opportunity to return the care and devotion they once showed us. In a way, it allows us to thank them for everything they’ve done throughout our lives"
What stereotypes still warp the way we view our ageing parents?
"The usual clichés surrounding old age—that it is simply a story of decline in every sense, marked only by weakness, dependency and a loss of purpose. If we view our parents through that narrow lens, all the positive aspects I mentioned earlier become invisible. Worse still, it makes us far more likely to exert unnecessary—and often counterproductive—control over their lives."
It's very common to hear people say things like, "My parents have become the children now."
"It's a really dangerous way to look at the relationship. It stems from viewing care as a purely one-sided dynamic—where one person passively receives care, while the other holds all the control. So, as our parents grow older and seem more vulnerable, we naturally feel compelled to take total charge of their lives.
"Treating an adult like a child strips them of control over their own existence, and it risks pushing them even deeper into dependency. Older people—even those living with cognitive decline—are not children. They are citizens with full rights, backed by a long and rich history that we cannot simply write off. Our role isn't to take over their lives (even if we think it's 'for their own good', or because it's quicker and easier for us). Instead, our job is to help them hold on to their autonomy, independence, and self-determination for as long as possible.
"There is an implicit humiliation in treating someone as an inferior who can no longer make their own choices, and older people pick up on that very quickly. Sometimes they rebel against it; other times, they simply resign themselves to it—often because they don't want to be a burden, or because they assume their children know best."
© Getty ImagesHow can we strike the right balance between offering care without overstepping, and respecting their independence without becoming distant?
"It comes down to genuine attention. We live in a world packed with constant distractions and competing demands that hijack our focus. We need to dedicate real time and attention to our parents—without overwhelming them or ourselves—savouring those moments together and actually giving ourselves space to enjoy them. If they matter to us, let’s prioritise the relationship by giving it the time and focus it deserves."
You remind us that our parents won't be around forever. How can we make the most of this stage emotionally without being consumed by anxiety?
"It's only when we truly register that something is finite that we begin to appreciate its presence and enjoy it. We have to take it day by day, taking things one step at a time and savouring the present, rather than trying to map out the future or staring down that horizon with fear and trepidation. Whatever happens will happen; in the meantime, our parents are still here. Let's nurture the relationship, carve out time for them, get to know them properly, and make sure they know we are their rock whenever they need us.
"Our parents' ageing holds up a mirror to our own lives. Tomorrow, we will be where they are today"
"Let's also keep them at the heart of the family. Encourage the younger generation—our children, their grandchildren—to build a warm, meaningful bond with them. It’s something that enriches both sides and deeply nourishes the family as a whole."
Introducing changes or extra help at home often sparks conflict ("I don't need a walking stick", "I don't want a stranger in my house"). How should we approach these conversations so they don't feel like they're losing control over their lives?
"We live in a culture that places such a premium on self-reliance that the fear of losing independence—of needing help, of being vulnerable—is seen as a defeat rather than a natural part of being human. Because of that, some older people instinctively deny that vulnerability or resist the changes that inevitably come with age.
"We should offer advice and share our perspective, but without nagging, imposing or scolding. Accepting one's limitations isn't easy, and it takes time. In most cases, older people eventually come to recognise that they can't do everything they used to, but it's a realization they ultimately have to reach on their own. Often, experiencing the minor, practical fallout of that resistance is what helps them turn the corner.
"Care solutions or mobility aids should always be framed as a tool to help them keep enjoying what matters to them—as a way of retaining control, rather than forfeiting it."
When there are several siblings, caring for elderly parents often stirs up old family dynamics and rivalries. What is your advice for managing this constructively as a family?
"A parent's vulnerability and care needs present a major challenge that often tests the seams of even the closest families. The best approach is to talk openly and make decisions through clear consensus. Aim for explicit agreements where the older person's well-being is the absolute priority—and where they are actively involved in the conversation, taking a central role in every choice made rather than just being talked about.
© Getty Images"Dividing up responsibilities, setting care boundaries and adapting to changing needs all demand this kind of open dialogue. Outdated prejudices—like automatically assuming daughters are naturally better suited to caregiving—have no place here."
What do you think is the most valuable thing we learn about ourselves when we support our parents through this stage?
"Our parents' ageing holds up a mirror to our own lives. Tomorrow, we will be where they are today. That can prompt us to reflect on our own priorities, and think about who, how, and where we'd like to be cared for if we ever need support down the line. Reflecting on it now allows us to plan for our own future and gather the resources we might need.
"Beyond that, spending time with our ageing parents—talking to them about their experiences and how they view the world—lets us tap into a lifetime of wisdom. It's a journey back through time that reveals as much about us as it does about them. For better or worse, we are who we are because someone nurtured us and helped shape us as human beings. Getting to know our parents while we still can is, in many ways, getting to know ourselves."
© Getty ImagesIf you had to offer one message of comfort and encouragement to a son or daughter holding a heavy heart as they watch their parents age... what would it be?
"While they are here, make the absolute most of your time with them and truly enjoy their company. Be grateful for everything they've given you, learn from them and keep that relationship vibrant and alive. Prioritise them in your life and make the time you share count.
"When they are eventually gone, honour their legacy and memory—it will continue to sustain you. If you have made the most of your time together and put them first, you will be able to look back with a smile, free of regret, and let their memory inspire your everyday life."
About the author
Dr Feliciano Villar is a Developmental Psychology professor and Director of the Master's Programme in Psychogerontology at the University of Barcelona and author of the Spanish-language book, My Parents Are Getting Older (Mis padres se hacen mayores).
