What to Do When Money Strains Family Relationships
What to Do When Money Strains Family Relationships
In survey, “Parents” are parents, stepparents and parents-in-law. Phone survey of 1,508 adults was conducted fall 2019.
When I told the financial therapist about purchasing my parents’ house — and how my father assured me it would eventually yield a return on my investment — she shook her head. “You never know what's going to happen and what type of care they might need down the line,” she said. “Don't count on ever seeing a penny from the sale of that house and you'll be happier. Consider that money gone.”
That advice, while difficult to hear, turned out to be enormously freeing — and the moment that changed everything for me. Reframing it as a gift helped to tamp down my anxieties, expectations and resentment around repayment. If, one day, I am actually remunerated, it will be a happy surprise. As my therapist helped me and find ways I could assume control over my life, I felt physically lighter. We started by taking a hard look at my own behavior. As the classic dutiful, responsible eldest, I had to admit that I liked the power of swooping in to take care of everything — but that same pride kept me from telling my sisters that I was struggling. After our session, I invited both sisters over for an unburdening get-together. They confessed that they were plagued by guilt, especially my sister who had started the business. The therapist had suggested that we brainstorm ways to make our situation feel more equitable. After a few cups of coffee, we agreed to think of time as another form of currency. We decided that my sisters, who live closer to my folks, would take over tasks that required time — yard work, decluttering my parents’ house, planning and cooking for family holidays. And I privately vowed to curb my judgment on my siblings’ expenditures. (My middle sister, who works like a pack mule, was absolutely entitled to a beach vacation.) Then I steeled myself for a sit-down with my parents. I was still worried that my confession would send them straight to the cardiologist, but as the therapist pointed out, my health was failing, too — and I was the family's foundation. I took a deep breath and told them that I simply couldn't afford the HVAC but would try to help them find a way to pay for it. So my father appealed to an organization founded by his company that helps out its own retirees with financial hardships. (I sure wish he had told me about this resource earlier.) Though I know it hurt his pride to ask, it worked. And family relationships inflame those emotions, with shifting alliances, long-standing issues and competing values about what money “should” be for.
Family Finances Supporting Mom and Dad Nearly Ruined Me
My parents money problems became mine after they lost everything
Illustrations by Adam Simpson Amid constant media coverage of financial support that Americans are providing their adult children, it’s easy to overlook that millions of middle-aged Americans are giving money to their parents. A new AARP Research survey of adults ages 40 to 64 shows how widespread— and stressful—that assistance can be. My parents had always been meticulous savers. On two modest salaries, they managed to buy a house, put their three girls through college and sock away a decent-sized retirement fund. But after they retired, they did something completely uncharacteristic, if well-meaning: They invested almost all their savings in my youngest sister's new business, a children's day care center. By the time it closed its doors for good a year later, about three years ago, my parents had . At first my father was able to pay their mortgage with his pension from the retail store chain where he had worked as a manager for 30 years (my mom had been in human resources). Both in their 70s, they received Social Security as well, yet despite living frugally, their debts began to pile up, and the bank threatened to foreclose on the house they had lived in for decades. My youngest sister was saddled with heavy debt herself, from the business. My middle sister is a school nurse (enough said) with three kids and a husband who is perpetually unemployed. That left me. My husband is a film editor, and I'm a writer. We aren't exactly making buckets of cash, but we had always been able to eke out a living and support our daughter. I was the lone person in the family with , so when my parents were forced to sell their home, I borrowed $50,000 for a down payment and bought them a smaller house. My husband said it was the right thing to do. Signing the loan agreement, though, made me nauseous. When I bought the house, my father said he would pay the mortgage from his pension. Of course, I still had to pay back the down payment. Dad positioned their new house as an investment that would be repaid to me when they were gone. It turned out, however, that my parents were still so broke that they, in fact, couldn't pay the mortgage. So for the first year, I duly wrote the checks. I'll just work harder, I thought. It's only money. I can make more. I started cranking out articles seven days a week. I had my own mortgage to pay, along with child care and hefty health insurance premiums (as freelancers, my husband and I are on our own). Then, one afternoon, my father phoned. Their car died, he told me, as a knot formed in my stomach. There was virtually no public transportation where they lived, nor any ride-hailing services. My husband and I, after some debate, decided to give them our car, which we'd paid for in cash, and lease another one. What could I do? They had to get around.Going broke
When I recall that period, I always think of the line in Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises when a character is asked how he went broke: “Two ways,” he said. “Gradually and then suddenly.” That's what happened to us. Now that we had car payments to make as well, I started paying other bills with credit cards. I began to wake up every night at 3 a.m., ruminating about my finances for hours. My hair fell out in chunks. But I kept my worry from my parents because I was afraid it would affect their health, which, particularly for my dad, was starting to decline. Although I've always been close with my family, a current of resentment began to course underneath almost all my interactions with them. I felt I was shouldering the burden for financial problems created by my parents and a sibling — a mess no one else was stepping up to solve. At family gatherings, hot anger would suddenly boil up in me. I'd notice, with narrowed eyes, that my youngest sister's kids always managed to have the latest electronics. When my middle sister was telling me about her beach vacation, I'd think, Huh, not making too many sacrifices, are you? Must be nice! Then another day my father called. “I've got some unpleasant news,” he told me as I stood motionless, holding the phone. Their HVAC unit had stopped working, he said, and needed to be replaced, for $7,000. He asked if I could foot the bill (adding that it would “definitely add value when you sell the house"). I said that I'd try to scrape together the money. Then I hung up the phone and cried. I felt so trapped. Money is still such a taboo subject in our culture, and financial problems can be deeply isolating. I needed to talk to someone. A friend of mine had seen a financial therapist — someone who counsels people on the emotions behind money — and I made an appointment. It was a relief to pour out my story to another human being. People think money is a rational, concrete topic, she said, when, actually, it's a highly emotional subject that's hardwired into our sense of survival. Money is primal; it's about food and shelter, health and safety. It's not “only money,” she offered bluntly. It never is.The hard numbers of parental support
A shows how many Americans give Mom and Dad financial aid. Amid constant media coverage of financial support that Americans are providing their adult children, it’s easy to overlook that millions of middle-aged Americans are giving money to their parents. A new AARP Research survey of adults ages 40 to 64 shows how widespread— and stressful—that assistance can be.In survey, “Parents” are parents, stepparents and parents-in-law. Phone survey of 1,508 adults was conducted fall 2019.
Many adults give money to their parents
Adults with living parents who have given them money in the past 12 months:Amounts can be substantial
Money given in the past 12 monthsIt' s usually on a regular basis
… And very often it' s for basic necessities
How parents used funds (could be more than one answer)When I told the financial therapist about purchasing my parents’ house — and how my father assured me it would eventually yield a return on my investment — she shook her head. “You never know what's going to happen and what type of care they might need down the line,” she said. “Don't count on ever seeing a penny from the sale of that house and you'll be happier. Consider that money gone.”
That advice, while difficult to hear, turned out to be enormously freeing — and the moment that changed everything for me. Reframing it as a gift helped to tamp down my anxieties, expectations and resentment around repayment. If, one day, I am actually remunerated, it will be a happy surprise. As my therapist helped me and find ways I could assume control over my life, I felt physically lighter. We started by taking a hard look at my own behavior. As the classic dutiful, responsible eldest, I had to admit that I liked the power of swooping in to take care of everything — but that same pride kept me from telling my sisters that I was struggling. After our session, I invited both sisters over for an unburdening get-together. They confessed that they were plagued by guilt, especially my sister who had started the business. The therapist had suggested that we brainstorm ways to make our situation feel more equitable. After a few cups of coffee, we agreed to think of time as another form of currency. We decided that my sisters, who live closer to my folks, would take over tasks that required time — yard work, decluttering my parents’ house, planning and cooking for family holidays. And I privately vowed to curb my judgment on my siblings’ expenditures. (My middle sister, who works like a pack mule, was absolutely entitled to a beach vacation.) Then I steeled myself for a sit-down with my parents. I was still worried that my confession would send them straight to the cardiologist, but as the therapist pointed out, my health was failing, too — and I was the family's foundation. I took a deep breath and told them that I simply couldn't afford the HVAC but would try to help them find a way to pay for it. So my father appealed to an organization founded by his company that helps out its own retirees with financial hardships. (I sure wish he had told me about this resource earlier.) Though I know it hurt his pride to ask, it worked. And family relationships inflame those emotions, with shifting alliances, long-standing issues and competing values about what money “should” be for.