Essay by

Whenever my mobile rings while settling my energetic 8- and 11-year-olds for the night in Spain, I respond at once. This choice extends the bedtime process by a full hour.

The caller is my mother back in the UK, reaching out for the third time that day. I cannot tell if it signals a real crisis or simply confusion over operating the television remote.

When I left home at age 24, my mother remained in our hometown caring for my teenage brother. It never crossed my mind that having children later would coincide with her needing support in old age.

I never expected this situation

Like most people that age, I could not predict my path even one year ahead, much less decades later.

In reality, I moved between countries according to an ever-changing list of goals, settling in Spain during 2012 and welcoming my own children three years afterward. At that stage, the possibility of my mother losing independence never entered my thoughts.

Even recently, when several expat acquaintances began returning home to assist aging parents, I assumed such duties would bypass me. My two siblings live nearer in England, and relocating my children is impossible because I share parenting with their father, who remains in Spain.

With my mother now 80 and facing multiple serious health concerns, responsibility frequently lands on me. My sister, based in the same town, manages her own medical challenges, while my brother lacks the sort of bond that allows practical assistance.

Remote caregiving fills every hour

Some days I operate as a nonstop remote caregiver and personal assistant combined. Discussions often resemble those with an underperforming support agent, and my professional schedule suffers repeated interruptions because the phone can no longer stay muted in case of urgent contact from my mother or a helper.

I join medical visits virtually through video calls, arrange schedules with in-home aides, and reserve transportation via a service permitting calls to local numbers.

Last June I traveled home briefly to escort my mother to a performance my sister had arranged but could not attend due to her own treatment.

Multiple daily calls arrive when she forgets microwave settings or her bank code. These interruptions sometimes cause me to miss portions of my children's sports matches or homework support sessions.

Once, during a late drive home with a companion, I reviewed bank transactions with her over the phone. I maintained a calm tone despite this being the third explanation that weekend.

Practically speaking, certain steps would have been clearer earlier. My sister and I arranged legal authority documents, yet using them from overseas proved more complicated than anticipated.

I needed to return to the UK in March specifically to reach bank accounts and enable digital access.

The greatest challenge as a Gen X expat in the middle

My mother remains largely unaware of the coordination required, though she appreciates the support. On better days we share pleasant talks free from guilt or frustration on my part.

One of the toughest aspects of belonging to the sandwich generation, a phase that may last years, involves recognizing that my children observe how I care for their grandmother and will apply similar lessons when caring for me. Any sharp note in my voice conveys a message, and my youngest once remarked after listening in, "Don't be mean to Nanna."

I aim to improve my approach, since the demands will only increase.