Don't Call Me Abandoned : A mother's Perspective

 Prachi* closed her eyes, this was probably the 25th forward/post she had read in the last few days about a child’s “duty” towards its ageing parents. The usual lines about how parents gave up everything for you, the usual story lines about how the child, now an adult, realises how wrong he was to commit his mother/father to an old age home, the usual pulling at heartstrings; a guilt trip almost guaranteed. As she was putting her thoughts together, “Surprise” a familiar voice whispered into her ear as the most amazing arms in the world engulfed her. Tushar her son kissed the top of her head and Prachi beamed with joy at this unexpected visit.

As they caught up on Tushar’s unexpected visit from abroad, he explained how he’d flown down for a few meetings and luckily they happened to be in the same city as her. He had moved some things around so was also able to take the day off. Excitedly, they made plans for the rest of the day and spent it going to some of their favourite places when he was growing up. After a wonderful dinner, after some tearful but not unhappy goodbyes, Prachi retired to her room and filled her roommate in on her day.

As she drifted off to sleep, the irony of what she had been reading when Tushar walked in had not been lost on her. She and her husband had been overjoyed when Tushar had been born and had not skimped on giving him the best of everything they could. This also included ensuring he was an independent child who had his own dreams to follow. They’d never imposed their unfinished business on him, instead giving him the confidence and values to be able to balance and be able to differentiate between love and shackles.

When her husband had died at the relatively young age of 65, Tushar had offered to resign from his prestigious post heading marketing at a major MNC and move back home so he could live with his mom.  Prachi hadn’t even blinked before she rubbished the idea and explained the stupidity of it all. She explained to him how it was completely unfair to his wife and kids to uproot them from their lives, careers, schools, to expect all of them to take a hit on their lives all to ensure that one person could have company. “Besides, that isn’t how we brought you up” she admonished him.

“It’s not like you have abandoned me” she continued. “You still send me enough money for me to lead a comfortable life, I have enough help for day to day necessities. Besides, I will have to put up living with you and everyone else and have my freedom curbed as well” she concluded.

And she had meant it. When her health started failing, she and Tushar found a comfortable home for her which ensured she had others of similar ages and mindsets to communicate with. She’d made new friends after almost a decade and she enjoyed her sessions of cards and carrom in the evenings in the common room.

She lost no time in telling anyone implying abandonment why she firmly insisted that as parents they had no right to treat their offspring as their retirement plan. “What is the point of educating our children, giving them dreams, making them capable and good human beings if the point is to reel them in and chop their and their family’s wings just to take care of me when I’m old? Bringing them into the world was my choice. Being part of my life wasn’t theirs”

This hadn’t happened easily. Countless times, growing up, Tushar had ranted and railed against them when she and her husband had shut down talks of them living with him once old, even if it was in jest. They were a couple who liked their independence, they insisted. Besides, they had wanted it to be very clear that while Tushar did have a duty towards his parents: that of being a good human being and a good son, they did not expect him to prove it to them by being the child who martyred his life for them. They would patiently explain how he would be married one day and have a family of his own. They expected that at that point, his wife and child/children and their betterment would be as much a priority for him. They explained how it would be a waste to tie himself down to them just to satisfy someone else’s idea of what it meant to be a good son. “Besides, they said, it’s not like we’re saying we want you out of our lives. If anything, we want you to be a part of it happily, by choice” they would explain to a young Tushar patiently.

 

Thankfully, their patience had paid off. Tushar grew up to be a brilliant mind who built a wonderful career for himself. A career that ensured he was able to provide the best care that his money could afford for her including material, social and medical needs. He had gone on to marry a woman who was equally successful in her own right. She had 2 grandkids who she spoke and skyped with everyday and visited annually. And she lead a relatively independent life, not bogged down by the daily struggles of living with a family that was together only in principle. All of this, she smiled to herself, because she was able to give her child the wings to fly.

 

*While this a fictional account, parents like Prachi exist. And children like Tushartoo.

 In the face of the barrage of constant guilt trips about abandoned parents, it is important to remember that there is a balance that can be achieved too. This doesn't have to be done at the cost of anyone's well being; not the parent's nor the child's.