I am thinking about the change in relationship with my children as they, and I age. Living at a distance from them makes the changes not so crucial. But as I live next door to one daughter and her family, I notice the changing relationship that has happened more acutely.
Of course, I will always be their mother. But at various times in the past the who-cares-for-whom relationship has varied. I remember noticing this the first time when I traveled to Europe with Heidi when she was 13 and I was 50 something. As we walked down from a Swiss mountain pasture on a narrow and muddy path, she was putting out her hand to help keep me from falling. I was surprised and honored to find she was concerned about my safety. Later I joked that she was worried about being stranded in a foreign country with her mother in the hospital or worse. But, it was real concern.
I continued to feel needed by both daughters well into their adulthood, as I was a fount of useful information and knowledge. I credit the liberal arts education that I received for knowing a whole lot about many things. As long as I was working, I was confident in my ability to be independent of others although able to seek help when needed.
Since retirement, however, I feel that many things have changed. I no longer have as much disposable income to help out financially. I was unsure about my role at first, especially as Heather became a parent. Of course being a grandmother is great. I planned that role when I was a teen and had no living grandparents. A grandmother keeps her cookie jar full I decided way back then. But when it came to be for real, giving them cookies all the time was frowned upon. And it was prudent for me not to have cookies around all the time either. So the cookie jar holds a variety of teabags.
The relationship with grandchildren worked itself out pretty well. I can be whimsical and silly, teach baking and sewing skills, examine bugs and fly kites with them any time. I hope they never know what to expect when they are with me, so that I remain interesting to them.
With my daughters I am beginning to see more concern for my safety. I consider whether to drive a distance on a bad weather day, something I would not have considered before. I think about how they would react if I were to climb a ladder to paint the top of the porch. Of course I want to be safe too and so I am mostly prudent. But sometimes I want to wear purple and act a bit crazy too. I love them. I love that we have a good relationship. I love the fact that my brothers care about me and stay in touch. But sometimes, I don’t want to think of myself as the oldest in the family and therefore the most vulnerable.
That feeling of vulnerability may be the worst part of getting old. So it is important that I maintain my own lifestyle, friends and activities. I don’t want my daughters to think they have to include me in all of their plans. I continue to have things to do and places to be that have no connection to them. And I do not hesitate to call for a battery jump if I have left the keys in the car overnight and drained the battery. Living close is good. Living in my own house is important, too. Taking care of myself is my gift to them.
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