Toughening them up
By MP on Monday 25 September 2006, 19:03 - Journal - Permalink
I've had to keep saying 'no' to dad this week. He has continued to ring me every day to ask, among other things, whether I am going over to visit. His calls grew more numerous for a while, but have now slackened off a little. I presume he has pinned his hopes on Greg instead.
There has been one over-riding reason for my hardened attitude. I am self-employed, and do most of my work on an hourly basis. There are no such things as 'days off' for me. If I don't work, I get no money. It just so happens that I have plenty of work to do before the end of this month, and I cannot delay any of it beyond 1st October. If I miss my deadline it means not only do I upset the client but I also let slip work that I've been asked to do. And work that I've been asked to do, if done, is work that I should be paid for. In other words, every hour I spend on mum and dad this month is directly costing me money.The secondary reason is that I feel I ought to draw back a little anyway. There is no doubt both mum and dad would like me to visit every day. Sometimes, when I leave, I have to promise mum that I'll be back 'tomorrow', even when it isn't true. Yet I cannot afford, financially or for my own peace of mind, to be there every day. Just what the optimal balance is I do not know. That is exactly what I'm trying to discover.
I'm somewhat reassured that lately mum and dad appear to be talking more to each other, going for walks (however ill-fated they turn out to be), and so on. This indicates they are exercising some rediscovered independence.
Maybe my relative absence over these few days will toughen them up. Maybe it will not. I remember when Greg and I were sent to boarding school, I thought it was because we were to get a better education, Greg thought it was because mum and dad didn't love us any more! Who knows how they will perceive being on the other end of the stick?
Comments
Considering what you've written to me about my "devotion" to my mother, you may find it surprising that I nodded my head vigorously throughout this entire post.
We are, each one of us, unique manifestations of, well, Something, only a very few of us know What That Is for sure. Most of us, at this time, live in a society that demands fundamentally independent self-maintenance. Even when this means trading maintenance for maintenance, which is what work is all about, the initial motivation must come from each of us, if we are judged, and judge ourselves, capable of it.
The detail of each of our lives is different, thus, our definitions of "devotion" to others, to anyone, are different. Balance is an individual matter. There is only one Dalai Lama, for instance. There is only one you, Mike. There is only one me. However connected we may be at The Core, this system implies separation. It is the basis for everything we do; individuation, in fact, is the goal of childhood.
Regardless of the "global" opinions of others, including me, on the matter of taking care of the elderly, of "devoting" oneself to the elderly, know that each of us does, at any particular time, as much as we are able in this regard, and what we do is always good. Always.
Just as your parents have a right to ask for more, you have a right to refuse that which would render you incapable of maintaining your own life adequately so that you are able to give what you can to them. If you did not maintain your life as you see fit, you would not be worth anything to them.
Thought provoking observation, too, about the differences of perception of parental love between you and your brother when sent to boarding school. Negotiating others' perceptions of our lives is perhaps the most inescapable and hardest task to which we are called in this life. As yet, there is no definitive answer on how to surmount this task; it is not as straightforward a task as, say, hydrating or nourishing oneself. It requires an individual slant based on individual detail.
We do what we perceive we can in this confusing world. This is the best we can do; the best you can do; the best I can do. May each of us occasionally experience those moments of peace that allow us, if only for a moment, to know this, about ourselves and about others.
Hard post upon which to comment, although I felt moved to do so. I'll bet it was equally hard to write. I'm glad you felt moved to write it.
Take heart. Confusion is always lurking around the corner. Once we're there, clarity is always lurking around the next, and so it continues. What a curious life this is!
Boy, that whole question of how much time is enough! One element I try to bring to it is the knowledge that whatever is going on right now, they are going to need even MORE of my time later. So I feel I have to pace myself, particularly as an only child.
We have it down to a MINIMUM of every other day. In other words, that is what they "expect" and can count on, but I am often there more days that. It seems to relax us all to have come to this understanding. Maybe it's just relaxing for ME, since it means I don't have to battle with the question all the time. With this as the baseline, it doesn't even bother me too much when "extra" things come up, as they so often do.
Then of course we have the question of whether they actually remember when you were there last, or what it means to them that you will be there again at any given time. I can't count the times when I have had a panicky, breathless call from my mother that sends me over there (40-minute drive) expecting the worst. And when I get there they both look up at me in great surprise, wondering why in the world I am there. They don't remember the call or the panic.
This sort of thing makes me feel that I really have to consider the schedule from my OWN point of view, given that they don't really have one (a point of view, that is). So their safety and comfort is the baseline, but I try not to worry too much about their "expectations," which is a pretty meaningless concept in their experience at this point.
This is not as harsh as it sounds, it's based on my observations of what really matters to them and what does not. It's not the same set of things we usually think would matter to our parents.