Rumbling in repentance:
Longing for those lost opportunities

She gave all that she has – the health, the happiness, the knowledge, the spirituality, the mantram, the good wishes, the blessings – to her children (and grand children that she considered her own). She protected them; loved them to the exclusion of others. She always gave. She gave advice. She advised caution. She enjoyed taking and fulfilling responsibility. She was untiring and did what was right. Single handed she brought all of us up.

The wheel of time has turned.. the same person lay down immobile and helpless in pain. In expectation of someone coming and taking care of her, of speaking a sweet word or two or listen to her talk. She always said ‘my children are my God’. Did she get what she wanted? Did the ‘God’ she believed in so ardently failed her?

Day after day, as she would lay immobile in the bed, the only movement is the writhing from the pains that no doctor would understand. The only thing that she could was to stare at the ceiling, so empty, so lonesome. The only person who would come running was the maid. No son, no daughter was in sight. No kitchen to manage, no mouths to feed, no establishment to give direction to. Just a blank room, with a lone window to stare out. She had nothing that she liked. She was not the one who would stick to the bed. She hated the servants hovering around her. She hated to be bathed, to be washed, to be at the mercy of servants to change diapers.

When she was down and immobile, did she get back what she gave? Could we give her the same amount of love she gave? Could we speak to her with love even a minute? All that she wanted was to speak to her children – sometimes, coherent, sometimes incoherent. Because they, she believed, are her world. Her everything.

She tried to look cheerful and confident though. She would ask for the music to be played, and asked me to put the pots with the roses at the window so that she could stare at them and feel happy. Her face glowed when she saw sharan, the youngest of the crop of the grand children. Alas, the presence of others would have made her so much more happy! She wanted all the children to be around. If they do not come, she would assume that they are actually coming – tomorrow… She would announce with a glow in her eyes that the grandson from UK or USA would be coming the next day; and waited for the day rise.

But clearly nothing of that sort was possible. Everyone was busy, with their work, with their families, with their responsibilities. With their Functions of which she no longer a part of. Of festivities in which she would not matter. The person who dictated the course of the daily life wherever she was, was to made to hear that what she has are ‘only illusions, day dreams…so get back to the reality’.

But the reality was too tough to accept for her. That there is only the servants to talk to .. none of her loved ones.. for whom she gave her life and blood. The only reality was the loneliness, the pain, the suffering. She suffered more from the mental pain – of isolation, of loneliness, of nothing to manage – than the physical pain that she has by now got used to living with.

She would wait for the son to come to her and talk or hear her stories. Some are stories about Ramakrishna babai or his children. Some about people from pentapadu. Stories that made no sense, since we never saw those people ever or interacted with them thus far.

Most days I used to come home late, step into her room to see her. I used to ask her how she has been. And the standard reply is ‘I am okay. You go and do your work’. I KNEW that she does not mean what she is saying. She wanted me to stay by her side and speak to her and hear her talk and respond to the complaints. But I would rather seem to obey her and go away upstairs and get busy with the routine. Only to see her next day. Some days, I have not spoken to her at all, as I was busy with my work routine. Because, I was preoccupied with what I have to do to the rest of the world. Precious little did I realise that I am not doing my basic duty – of repaying love with love – adequately.

Many of us complained that she has, of late, being always talking ill of others. Then, there were accusations – some accusations about the servants or about the close relatives. Most of us used to hate hearing such accusations – as they are so patently baseless. True, many of them may be based only on her apprehensions. The toll of a battered body and the futile attempts to conceal the pain have brought out a series of outbursts against the seemingly innocent persons.

So what did the children do? They tried to argue with her. Prevent her from saying all those things. When they did not succeed, they avoided her. They avoided hearing from their mother. Because they KNOW that what she is saying is untrue. Because they are busy. Because they did not want to waste time on such baseless allegations.

Truth is that she never complained against her children (or grand children whom she brought up as her own children). She wanted to protect them from what she believed would damage their interests. As long as she was able to move around, she would stop such ‘influences’ herself. When she failed to move, all that she could do is to call us and inform us, warn us; so that we can take care. It was only to protect her children from what she believed were the destructive influences. She wanted to warn me from being prey to ill influences. She wanted me to be safe. She wanted us to be happy. They are based on true love for her children. Only we did not realise that. Most of us failed to understand why she does it. At least I did not understand till it is too late. …

Least we could have done is to hear what she has to say and return her love with some kind words. We did not do that. Not very often. Not as much as she deserved for a life of sacrifice.

Now that I realise that – I long for the return of those moments when I could hear her talk. The moment when I could take her hand in mine and feel her warmth. But it is too late. Gone were those precious moment where I could have played a role to keep her happy. Gone was the chance to understand her and see her smile. Gone was the opportunity to feel her warmth.

Forever.

Subrahmanyam
7th April 2008


Repentance….

Many responses for my rumblings posted on the group. I needed to clarify more.

I repent not because I did not love her. I repent because I lost opportunities for spending time with her, to hear her, to see her smile. So did many of us.

The issue is about the geriatric care. Care for the people who invested a lifetime on us. I am not saying that we do not love or respect them. In fact, we are proud of them, grateful for what they did for us, for their values, for their discipline.

But what fails us is the understanding that mere love is not sufficient, taking care of the elderly needs to be worked on. We need to invest time, do not take things for-granted. Realise that they have emotional needs which need to be fulfilled.

It is all about understanding them, their perceptions, opinions and needs. Usually, due to the generational gap, we end up failing to understand them. It is this aspect of the geriatric care that we need to address.

Their ears fail, so we shout.
They are incoherent, so we exasperate.
They are dependent, so we feel the burden.
They are nosey, so we protest.
They act childish, so we admonish.
They command us, so we disobey.
They want us around, we go away.
They want our time, we are busy.
They want to advise, we feel we know everything.
They treat you like a child, we think we are grown up.
They want to tell their past, we have no time to listen.
They complain, we denounce.
They talk a lot, we find it boring.

If only we understand them better, we can spread a lot of happiness. Because when they are happy, we are also happy.

Some principles we can follow (both my parents are gone, but those lucky ones whose parents are still alive):
Spend at least one hour of quality time every day with the elderly. It could be in spells. Get them to stay with you, if you can.
When they advise, realise that they are anxious to teach you more. Because for them you are still a child. Respect that.
Try and understand what they are saying. Each of what they say, is distilled common sense gained after a life time of experience.
Look at what interests them. If they like to talk about vegetables, learn to listen and converse, even if it means learning about unknown.

One thing is sure, blessings of the parents help at every stage in life.
Their benediction is the greatest protection you can ever hope for.

Sure, it comes unasked, but you will deserve it better if you work for it.

Subrahmanyam
8th April 2008