When Mom’s Roku Breaks: Tech Support, Sibling Style

Top 5 Ways to Help Your Aging Parent Manage Technology (Without Losing Your Mind)

1.     Fix your own damn tech issues first—then you’re cleared to fix theirs (like the airplane / oxygen mask analogy)

2.     Delegate tech support to the sibling most likely to pass a CompTIA exam (if you don’t know what the hell that exam is…EXACTLY!)

3.     Accept that streaming passwords multiply like rabbits.

4.     Put blocks on phones/TVs unless you want surprise Pay-Per-View bills.

5.     Remember: thank your sibling/friend/hyper-local tech support!

I feel lucky my sister Emily handled Mom’s tech support for over a decade. She was the IT department, the help desk, and the genius bar. This was the greatest gift considering Mom’s smart TV was her lifeline: Starz (for Outlander), Netflix (Game of Thrones), maybe Grey’s Anatomy (me: Shonda obsessive; Mom: hot men + damsels in distress).

Mom lived for her shows. I’d canvass my friends: Anyone know what Outlander is? Anyone watching Outlander? Want to talk to my mom about it? She’s super cool and amazingly lucid for her age.

Now, my mother couldn’t walk—non ambulatory—but her mental acuity was unmatched as she easily walked me through every step of how and why her tv wasn’t working. The weird miracle here was: she could run her own damn Roku—while I was still looking up the word. With one hand barely strong enough to lift—and use—a plastic fork, she’d somehow still click her way into Westeros.

Of course, sometimes the system crashed.

 Mom: My TV isn’t working.
Me: It won’t turn on? Can you call the front desk?
Mom: No, it’s on. I just can’t get my shows.
Me: That’s for the Emily help desk, not the Lisa what is Roku, again non-help desk.
Mom: I know honey, but I think Em got mad last time.
Me: Can you text her?
Mom: My phone’s out of juice. Maybe I need a new one.
Me: (to myself, sotto voce: over my dead body) I’ll text Emily.

Emily was brilliant at managing mom stuff from a distance. Our sibling banter went like this:

Me: Hi sister. Your mother has messed up her Roku again.

Emily: Ok sister, I will handle it.

Me: She can’t watch Outlander. And there’s no new season. We have a mom problem.

Emily: Has mom logged into her laptop lately.

Me:  Not that I know of.

Emily: Okay, I’ll try a few things remotely.

Me: Oh, and Em, if your mother requests an upgraded iphone please

just say no. It’s still under contract.

Emily: Okay sister. I’ll handle it.

And she did. Emily would phone the assisted living front desk, get maintenance on-site, and walk them through the reboot: batteries, settings, HDMI voodoo. Sometimes she found the bug was in their system, not Mom’s. I’d get the call from Emily, not gloating, but not-not gloating: 

Emily: Sister, your mother is back online and back in front of her shows.
Me: Hallelujah.

Emily: GOT’s new season drops next week. I’ll add the app.

Me: Bless you.

Emily: I will send you the password in case you decide you want to watch it.

Me: I won’t, but thank you sister.

When Dad died, we each inherited $20K. I bought kitchen cabinets. Emily got an IT certification. Guess which one aged better? Emily now works in tech, gainfully employed by some of the biggest tech companies in the world and yet still ran Mom’s entertainment empire until the end. During COVID she even got Mom on Zoom, which impressed the younger cousins so much they dubbed her “iPhone Phyllis.”

Emily and I don’t always get along, but when it mattered, we were a team. Divorce-trained kids: you get decisive fast, you trust each other deeply, and you acknowledge each other’s strengths and fill in each other’s weaknesses.  I’d hand her the tech problems; she never asked why.

The payoff? Mom, happily rewatching Game of Thrones, telling me how brilliant Emily was.

Me: Hi Mom, what are you up to?

Mom:  I am rewatching the last season of GOT because Emily GOT me the new season… Get it?! She fixed my Roku. She is something that Emily!

Me: Are you watching Monk tonight with Bernie? (her assisted living boyfriend)

Mom: Yes, he’s doing his 10,000 steps and picking something up at Trader Joe’s.

Me: That’s fabulous, Mom.

Mom: Talk later, honey.

Click. The sound of peace restored by Roku. And Emily. 

dōteworthy

dōte note
When your parent’s Roku crashes—or their iPhone needs “just one little update”—who in your family gets the tech support call? Are you the Emily, the Lisa, or do you just hide under the kitchen cabinets you bought with your inheritance?

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