Pampered Parent Goes Pearshaped

Parenting at the best of times is difficult. Few know the rules, and when we slip up, it’s with the best intentions. We all know there are no shortcuts, and it’s an unforgiving task. It’s not surprising; my offspring were much cleverer than me. They hardly had teeth before biting me with their sharp wit and intelligence, and by the time they were weaned they had me down pat and let me know in no uncertain terms how to rule the roost.  Did my parents feel the same way, or were they always in control?

No matter my age, I’ve always been the child in my parents' eyes; they were all-knowing, all-seeing, and always there. So why am I surprised it’s all gone pear-shaped?

Love. That double-edged sword.

This year has been marked by the noticeable passage of time. Suddenly I see the lines on the faces of my oldest friends, and I feel a mix of nostalgia and sadness. Their hearing has gone, their eyesight not too bright. Shoulders are more stooped, necks stiffer, and joints swollen. We bellow at the bridge table and bite our tongues lest we’re misunderstood! It’s time to say what we feel, to make memories before their clocks stop and they’re no more. Forewarned is forearmed.

Yet, I still shock easily, although I brace myself and consciously warn myself that I should never be surprised by anything anyone does or says. It’s easier when you catch your teenage son smoking. That’s expected. When my father silently entered my kitchen yesterday, hands wringing, and said they weren't staying long because they were expecting a buyer for their house, I was gobsmacked. My legs turned to jelly. Like a fist in my solar plexus, I felt winded, and my chest hurt. They’re supposed to live there forever.  That house with all their precious things around them.

I know it’s time. But I can’t get my head around it—my parents, timeless, solid and dependable.

If I'd been a little more aware, I might've seen their insecurities too.     But I see their frailty, their tiredness, and the stress of keeping it all together. Yet I don’t understand. Denial is in my head. In my heart, I've not seen the slipping away of memories, names, and special occasions.   Reality sits in my chest like a rock. Making it difficult to cry, to swallow, or breathe. How do I get to grips with it all? Accepting these changes is a journey I am still learning to navigate, and I hope sharing this helps others feel less alone in their struggles.

“Adrift” is what it feels like on a huge, grey sea. I don’t see horizons, silver linings, nor land. It’s frightening. Remember, I get seasick; I wish I could say.  My mother would probably tell me to paint my lips or get my nails done, and then to find courage.

Without being prepared, I must weather the storms on this high sea of doubt, loneliness, and insecurity as we, as a family, make so many life-changing decisions. I want to shout, “Dad, do not go gentle into that good night, you must rage, rage as Dylan Thomas wrote,” but I know it’s time for them to go where life will be quieter, gentler, and easier. How can I best support my parents emotionally during this transition? What words or actions will help them feel loved and valued as they face aging?

Selfishly, I wonder what I will do when I drive past their gate?

And so I have a  few more days of being spoilt by having my son and his gorgeous Emily here.  This will have to suffice as I treasure the hours I’m allocated while they do their touristy thing in the Western Cape. I try to take as many photographs and mentally record our conversations. The stone in my chest weighs me down as I prepare myself for the empty months ahead. Oh, my mother's heart.

UPDATE: My brother- and sister-in-law are putting feelers out; they've contacted a few suitable retirement villages in their area. We've even been to look at lovely gardens, large, shady trees, pleasant recreational areas, and the small cottages are surprisingly well-designed and proportioned.   Options are subject to availability, and negotiations are underway to be listed.  We stopped to chat with residents who put my mind at ease; one lady said it's the best place she's ever lived in.   I see the charm and the attraction.  Finally, I'm at peace and see the necessity.