The Old and the Young

Margaret Wente had an interesting article about women and their mothering instincts in this weekend's "Globe and Mail." She discussed the dichotomy between what women want as individuals and what they will do as mothers, or what they are expected to do. It was an interesting article inspired by a French writer (Badinter is the last name) who feels that current mothering trends are imprisoning women in the role of caretaker and that the idea of a parent sacrificing herself is somehow demeaning. My view is kids learn what they are taught; if a mother takes care of the children, they will take care of her in their old age. Maybe it is self-preservation that makes a good mother. I watch my husband, who never had a good relationship with the matriarch, still care for his mother and know, whatever she did wrong when he was growing up, she must have done something right. Or, maybe, my mother did. I watch my children with their grandmother and admire them; they just seem to accept this is the way she is and that's that. I wonder if they will be like that with me in the future?

What I don't understand, and this is me as an adult individual, is why people would bring children into the world if they don't want to take care of them. My children are not accessories to my life; they are my life. And, I say that proudly knowing some think I am deluded into accepting my imprisonment as a haven. I am not a housekeeper or a housewife; most of the women I know who work have much nicer, tidier homes than I have. But I love being with my children; I grant I do not have the same feeling about the matriarch's presence. But would I displace this woman who brought my husband into the world? Hardly. What I find hard to understand is why people like Madame Badinter, author of the French book, find it irrelevant to discuss parenting without the inclusion of the old. It is not as though our roles as parents somehow end and we are disconnected from the children we bring into the world. We are supposed to be there at their beginning and they are supposed to be there at our end. Am I being naive?

There is a seniors' home on the main road entering Barrie; it is a lovely place with gardens and benches and walkways throughout the front. My children were in a choir that once sang there. The seniors do not go out into the gardens. They do not wander the paths and look at the flowers and it is a very inviting place. When my children went to the home, I went, too, as a supervisor, and could not help but notice the loneliness of such a pleasant place. My thoughts tend to be that if a senior does not want to be institutionalized in their latter years, they should give second thoughts to institutionalizing their children in their early years. Of course, some parents find it unavoidable; but, then, they compensate for their absence. And, they do not do it with toys or Wii or vacations, but with their time. At the end of our lives, it is time that becomes most valuable. My thought is that if one has invested one's time in one's children, they will invest some of their time in our dotage. I am not sure of anything anymore.

As the matriarch ages, I realize I am living with one very selfish woman; it doesn't matter the time we share with her, there is always something better somewhere else. But I also know my husband remembers a time when she was not like this and I must cling to his memories. I must also show my children the importance of time and family so they will know its value in their future; if I don't show them, no one else will. Of course, that is the problem with viewing parenthood as a career choice or as an addendum to one's career: children are with you for life. They do not grow up and go away; or maybe, they do? But I imagine if there are no bonds developed between parents and children when the children are young, there should be no surprise they aren't there when parents are old.