Will We be a Burden on Our Children?

 I think I am ready to write about this topic. At first, I thought I avoided these words in order to not upset my wife. Then I found an excuse in not knowing how to actually take the thoughts and put them to paper. Finally, I decided that a certain amount of time had to pass before opening this box of feelings. In the end, I was the both the reason and the excuse for not putting down words that would tell others of this subject. The topic is the passing of my Mother-in-Law this past summer.

Before I break into the true subject of this posting, I feel that I need to pay homage to this wonderful person that left us. Jeanne was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, a nurse, and a person who cared about others. Even though my wife and I met late in life, I had the pleasure and fortune of knowing Jeanne for nine years. Nine great years, but still it was not enough.

My wife often talks about how her mom studied nursing and worked in the field for a number of years before giving it all up to take care of her family. She had the chance to be there for her kids when they came home from school every day. She was there when her kids needed her. My wife and her brothers were lucky to have her.

My Mother-in-Law was the practical one; this may have come from the nursing. She wanted to know what was what and move on with life. I can remember taping her for a film I put together for her and her husband’s 50^th wedding anniversary. She stated the facts of things. I remember once she said all she had to say, she asked, “Is that it?” She didn’t really want to be filmed.

Now don’t get me wrong, she was practical, but she had a great sense of humor. I recall within the first couple of days of meeting her (she and her husband flew out to visit), I said something to her with a tinge of sarcasm. Before the last words left my lip, this 75-year-old woman was sticking her tongue out at me. That was my introduction. She didn’t tell jokes, but she had a sense of humor. Jeanne also loved music. André Rieu and Christmas. She would sing along to both all the time. She was a wonderful woman.

However, this piece is only partially about her. It is also about being an adult-child and living with the fact that every day your parent(s) is/are getting older. In other words, it is about life. It is about having to come to terms with how the world works.

I lost my dad when I was 15. While it was not something quick, I was a child and kept away from much of what was happening with him. The adults dealt with life. Now I am the adult – no matter how much I try to run from it. Now it is up to my wife and me to deal with life while trying to block it from our daughter.

My mother is going to 78 this year. 78? I thought my mom was old at 40. If that is the case, I do not want to put a word to her age now. The thing is that when we lost my Mother-in-Law, I could not help but start to worry about my own mother. There is a difference of seven years between the two, but once you reach a certain age – those differences seem to be minor.

For the most part, my mother is in decent health – not great, but not horrible. She is a person in her late 70s. Like Jeanne, she was a nurse and gave it up to be at home with my brothers and me. She became a mom to so many when she and my dad ran a drum corps.

For years, we have dealt with a memory that is not as sharp as it used to be. We have dealt with knee surgeries, a pace-maker, and other assorted issue. We have to stop more often when we go out to the mall or other places. We have to accept that fact that age is running its course. But we don’t – do we? We don’t want to accept that if we are lucky enough to still have our parents that there will come a day – sooner now than it was a year ago – where we will have to say our good-byes. It is not easy.

In the meantime, we also have to deal with how the years react to our elders. I have a number of friends in the same boat as I am. We lean on each other. We support each other. We listen to one another. I am coming to understand that, while people wish aging wouldn’t happen, it is not the age that bothers people. It is the seeing the people who raised you, were your rock, need to turn the tables and have you be there rock. It now becomes difficult to think that these frail people used to carry us, lift us on their shoulders, wipe out tears, and support us in all ways. They gave us unconditional love.

In the end, we do it. We take care of our parents. We will support them both physically and mentally. We will do what is needed. We will be there.

Even all of this is not my truest fear. My fear is that our daughter will one day end up having to do the same for us. I will be 60 before our daughter even reaches her 20s. My fear is that while she should be having the time of her life in her early 20s, or starting a family not much later, that I will be a burden on her. I have thought about this quite a bit in the last six months. What is interesting is that I, and others I know, do not look at what we do for our parents as a burden, yet we look at ourselves as possibly becoming just that.

I am afraid of aging. I am not afraid of getting old. I am actually looking forward to it – retirement. I look forward to the days when my wife and I can do as we please. I am PATIENTLY waiting to be a granddad. I want to see what that part of life will hold for me. I fear aging. I do not want to get to the point where others have to do for me. Having to say good-bye to a wonderful woman has caused me to worry about what happens when it is my turn.

So that is where I meandered tonight. Thanks for walking with me.