My Aunt Has Started Doing Something Very Dangerous in the Car. But None of Us Can Stop It.

Advice by Jenée Desmond-Harris

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March 24, 20266:00 AM

Dear Prudence is Slate’s advice column. Submit questions here.

Dear Prudence,

I’m writing on behalf of my parents (I know there’s nothing I can do in this particular situation). With that said, my aunt Leah, in her late 70s, was recently diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. For context, she was a single mother to my cousin James, and she lives one state over from both my parents and James.

The main issue is that Leah gets lost regularly, but is still living independently and even driving. When she gets lost, she calls up James, and he gives her directions to get home. She can’t use a GPS, and she’s unable to use apps like Uber or Lyft. My parents are convinced that this is wildly unsafe and she shouldn’t be driving, but both James and Leah think she’s fine. (My dad, her brother, also thinks that it’s time for her to move into assisted living—money is not an issue—but she plans to move in with James and his family. Never mind that Leah has never approved of James’ wife and has been cruel to her in the past.)

Clearly, this is a giant mess. Is there anything my parents can do to convince James that it’s time for Leah to give up her car keys? They visit Lean when they can, but my parents are getting older as well. I’m of the opinion that Leah moving in with James and his family might be a bad choice, but that’s not our business. The driving situation, on the other hand, is legitimately dangerous. Is it best to stay out of all of it?

—Guess I’ll Have to Take My Parents’ Car Keys One Day Too

Dear Car Keys,

I suppose your parents could send James something authoritative (like this article from the Mayo Clinic) explaining that while people with early stages of Alzheimer’s can sometimes drive, getting lost frequently is a sign that it’s time to wrap up their time behind the wheel, for their safety and the safety of others. But that’s not exactly insider information, and I suspect he already understands that this is the case. He’s probably in denial or shutting down in the face of the overwhelming prospect of managing this major change in his mother’s life—not just the driving part, but her transition away from being a person who can’t make all of her own decisions, and the enormous responsibility he’ll have to take on as a result. The conversation will be hard. The emotional fallout will be hard. Her life without a car will be hard.

So my advice to your parents is that they should step in to help him in a way that makes it all feel more manageable. They should offer to help James have the conversation with Leah, back him up, and if that doesn’t work, volunteer to call in a report to the DMV and flag the concern to her doctor if she refuses to give up her keys. Then, they should tell him that they’re willing to help figure out how Leah will get around when she’s no longer driving. You say money is not an issue, so maybe they can identify an old school, non-app-based car service or someone in her neighborhood who would shuttle her around for an hourly rate.

I imagine having an elderly parent in this situation is a lot like having a baby. Everyone has strong feelings about how caretaking should happen, but few people actually want to do the unglamorous work of helping. I’d like for your parents to go beyond sharing their anxiety to being a part of Jame and Leah’s support system. There are plenty of ways to do that, even with the distance. Hopefully, they’ll remember all this when the time comes for them to stop driving, and you won’t need to assemble a team to convince them.

Dear Prudence,

My niece is nearly 11, and the divorce happened two years ago. Everything seemed fine until my brother started dating “Hannah,” a single mom with a 14-year-old. My niece has started to openly steal, particularly from Hannah’s daughter, and gets hysterically defiant when confronted. She was written up twice last year at school for this behavior, and my mother refuses to take her to the grocery store anymore because she has to make my niece turn out her pockets for stolen candy and make up. This has caused a lot of friction between my brother and Hannah because she doesn’t think he is doing enough to curb this. My niece gets a talking to and loses her iPad privileges for the afternoon, but it doesn’t make a dent in her behavior. Her mother just ignores it.

Everything came to a head over the holidays, when a special sweatshirt of Hannah’s daughter went missing at the family party. It was a gift from a relative who died last year, and Hannah’s daughter was openly crying, trying to find it. It turned up in my niece’s bag. When confronted with the truth, my niece got genuinely hysterical, claiming it was her sweatshirt and she always had it, and she wasn’t the thief; it was Hannah’s daughter who was lying. At this point, Hannah’s daughter started to scream too and called her a lying thief, and the night was ruined.

Hannah has broken up with my brother and told him blankly that there was something seriously wrong with his daughter and he needed to get her actual professional help. Now, my brother is moping around and claims he doesn’t understand why Hannah broke up with him over a sweatshirt. Hannah was the first woman he had dated since the divorce, and he was seriously smitten with her. It makes me want to shake him.

This isn’t normal behavior, especially the double-downing on lying. My niece has never left the state and certainly doesn’t have adult sweatshirts from other ones, and of everything at the house, she took the one thing she knew that Hannah’s daughter valued the most. The rest of the family is just as disturbed and talks about not wanting my niece around until this klepto habit is kicked. I am the closest to my brother and want him to be happy and my niece to be raised right. What do I say here, if anything?

—Hannah Was Right

Dear Harper Was Right,

Here’s what you should say: “When are Olivia’s school breaks? Let me know so I can take PTO, and she can come spend them with me for a change of scenery and some auntie time, and a break for you.”

I don’t know exactly what’s going on with your niece, but even if I had a foolproof anti-kleptomania parenting solution, you wouldn’t have the power to implement it, or to force your brother to. I’m not saying some extra love and one-on-one attention will heal whatever’s making her act out, but it absolutely never hurts, and it’s what you have to offer.

Prudie Wants to Hear From You!

Readers often have great suggestions for our letter writers, occasionally disagree with a point Prudie makes, or simply want to provide some additional advice. Each week, Prudie will be replying to some of these comments and suggestions from readers, which will be featured on the site on Fridays for Slate Plus members. Write to us! Or submit a question here.

Dear Prudence,

I often read about people who feel less than close to their families. I am one of those people. Sometimes, but not often, it bothers me. But as a rule, I would like nothing more than to have nothing to do with my family.

It begins with my very earliest memory. I was being potty trained, and my mother, who must have been having a bad day (I am firstborn), gave me the finger, long before I even knew what that was. My younger brother was always her favorite, even to the point of blaming me when he went into the Marines. There are too many instances from my younger brother’s life to go into here, but my mother always showed overt favoritism to my younger brother.

We were a catholic family (my mother is not), and I eventually became a priest. The only relative who was happy about it was my paternal grandfather. Now my mother is 90, my father is dead, and I’m still Mr. Not Rev or Father to the rest of my family. No recognition for over 30 years as a pastor of parishes. My biggest problem? When I call my mother (out of obligation), she signs off with, “I love you.” She NEVER said that to me before my father died. I can hardly stand to talk to her. Prudie, you are wiser than I. Tell me what I am missing here.

—Your Missing Offspring

Dear Your Missing Offspring,

I can see why it’s infuriating to hear your mother say, “I love you.” It’s almost like she’s indirectly trying to rewrite the whole history of your relationship—and maybe she would sincerely like to do that. I would if I were her; a lot of people soften with age. But deciding to be a little nicer isn’t a shortcut around being accountable to the people she’s hurt. So, how would you feel about telling her about your reaction to those words? “Mom, it’s confusing for me to hear you say that because of how you mistreated me when I was growing up and how you’ve never celebrated my adult accomplishments.” Will she change after hearing this? Almost certainly not. But there’s something to be said for getting those feelings off your chest.

Ultimately, any peace you find about your upbringing and feeling of not being seen is probably going to come from outside your family. I imagine your faith has some teachings that could comfort you and maybe even help you find meaning in this painful situation. Let me ask you this: What would you say to a member of your congregation who came to you hurting over a similar challenge with their mom? Offer the same advice (and compassion) to yourself.

Classic Prudie

My dad died when I was 13 and my mom remarried when I was 15. My brothers were much younger and bonded pretty hard with our stepdad. I didn’t. He took good care of my mom and that was enough, but “Jesse” was the guy who really stepped up for me. He knew my dad since they were in grade school, and gave me my first real job and all the fatherly advice I asked for. Well, now I am engaged. For some god-forsaken reason, my mom and stepdad are fixated on him walking me down the aisle.