There's a grim little story by Hans Andersen (well, he didn't do cheery), in a realist mode, about a peasant family who get fed up with ageing grandpa's messy eating habits, on account of his trembling hands (and possibly missing teeth?), and make him a trough to eat from, to his shame. One day, father of family finds his son at carpentry in the shed: hello, papa, I am making a trough for you to eat from when you are old. Moral lesson taken on board.

Also, demographic studies of C19th London suggest that families were more likely to take in ageing mothers and let fathers go to the workhouse - which was probably less to do with any Freudian family dynamics than the fact that ageing mothers could still do a certain amount of useful domestic tasks even while sitting by the fire in a chair.

My own mother's life was consumed by elder care - own mother and mother in law - even when they had to go into full-time care there was constant visiting in the schedule.