Manifesto — A letter to the sandwich generation

Hi,

Today, all of us are having a hard time simply living. The young, the old — all of us…

On one side there's your work, career and life. On another your children (if any). On yet another are your elders — their health, their fading memories, the days ticking away, and the quiet dread of "what am I going to do?".

In the middle of all that, as a sandwich-generation person, there's barely any time left that's just yours — I can imagine.

My mother is living with dementia; she gets more agitated by the day, slowly drifting from reality. My father is fighting cancer for more than 10 years.

All along, I kept wishing for a small circle — a place where I could speak freely, without being judged, and get honest ideas. These topics are either dismissed as "boring and unpleasant", or people steer you somewhere else for their own interests.


What if we could have helped our elders become superagers and become one ourselves in the far future?

If your plan is to hand your children and elders off to "a caregiver" and solve everything with transactional, operational care — this place isn't for you.

We believe in the feeling of accompanying someone, the power of the "yuck" to become a superager— and in celebrating life, no matter what.

To live like humans, to bring life to a place worth celebrating, and to gather the people we can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with along the way — that's what I dream of. Because I need it too.

Once a week, on Friday mornings, I'll land in your inbox. A short letter that gets you, that keeps you company. Then, if you like, you'll write back. We'll talk about what we can do for the ones who raised us, how to build a better bond with ourselves and with them, and how to turn these hard moments into "little celebrations".

Maybe our gaze shifts a little, and together we can turn old age into something closer to a celebration.