Parents came with a life time guarantee – they don’t age, or fall sick or become infirm and die. Those things happen to other mortals. Or so I used to think. Until one day my illusions broke down when during one of my annual visits I saw my father bent , shriveled and shaking with Parkinson’s. My father who was one of the smartest men I had known, with a joyful grin always on his face, who walked around in his characteristic long strides ! Death came to him as a blessing in more ways than one. Slowly I realized that my parents are also mortals and one day death will certainly take them away. All the ads purporting to show us that popping this pill will alleviate all age-related problems while this financial plan will take us into a safe and secure old age are only selling false hopes of mobility and freedom against the certainty of bodily decay. I realized there is no such thing as’ walking into our silver haired twilights’.
Armed with this new-found wisdom I came ‘home’ to live with my mother after a gap of 40 odd years. But nothing had prepared me for this total reversal of roles-that of parenting a parent who had lived almost all her life on her terms. There was this neat package of surprises waiting for me to unravel- a package which offered less comforts but more challenges.
The strength, which formed the foundation of the days to come is the unfathomable love that a child feels for the mother. No matter how much you have fought, argued ,had disagreements . This relationship defies all reason and logic.
It also gave me an opportunity to re-bond with my siblings and their families. Worried as they were about our mother’s health and other related issues they used to feel the full weight of distance, as I used to, worrying if mother will be alive on their next holiday . We cope by remote control by telephone, depend on relatives, hope the servants are honest enough. Juggling so many balls in the air-career, family, health, friends- we were all living a guilt –ridden life. But now that I have assumed the role of the front line soldier’ they heaved a sigh of relief and were too happy to extend all support in whatever form possible-physical, financial and not to speak of emotional. It became a team work, a joint effort which made things rather smooth for me. I also had to ensure the support of my own family-my husband and children. Because unless they share my enthusiasm and are able to see the shining star at the distant horizon, it would not have been easy for me. My husband was ,of course ,game for anything . My children were quite amused at this new ‘avataar’ of their mother, from a jet-setting executive to a domesticated woman. “So what did you do today, other than cooking and eating ?” A would often poke me .
I mentioned about the challenges earlier ? Having lived apart for 40 odd years both myself and my mother grew much apart . We are living in two worlds under the same roof, like an apple and orange sitting in one basket.. Talk of the generation gap (cliché,cliché ) ! Mother hates mobile phones and computers .Only time she gives a half nod of approval to the computer is when her great grand children come on the web-cam. My favourite TV programmes are anathema for her .”Oh, these North Indian women are so loud and argumentative.”. ( Burkha Dutt,please make a note !). Having lived in a city where relationships are mostly impersonal , I have become a very private person and I jealously guard my personal space . In this small town everyone wants to know everything about everyone. Added to this is my mother’s exuberance which attracts a large circle of friends . I could not relate to them. Mother cannot understand my mood swings or long spells of silence. The only place where peace prevails is the dining room. I love cooking and she loves eating.
The growing geriatric society in Kerala is facing an extreme short supply of the geriatric health-care workers . This is one thing I was not prepared for. Added to it is also our own aging and health related issues. There are times when my energy oozes out completely . At such vulnerable moments some bad childhood memories and resentments crop up in the mind . At such times it is critical how easily one can absorb things. You mellow and become more accepting . And that is how my angularities have smoothened now to a large extend. Because we have to understand that aging involves untold sadness and indignity. Old age is almost always a time of physical and mental deterioration, of pain and loss, of fear and loneliness.
When I watch mother sleep under her favourite red blanket, I recall the psalmist’s cries ,” "Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone." I drop a kiss on her forhead and then I am at peace with myself .
