There Was Never

Once a very long time ago, I watched two families hold on to their offspring for far, far too long.

The children became young adults, and slowly evolved into the backbone of the family unit. Not only financially, but socially and realistically, become the strength of the unit.

Meanwhile, their own youth was being eroded. The things other young people took for granted were relinquished to provide a safe haven of comfort for aging parents.

In one family, six brothers remained unmarried and lived home until their father died at the age of 90. It was too late then to reclaim the norm of youth, and so they remained intact; lonely inhabitants of their parents yesterdays.

In the other family, the daughter postponed the choice of marriage, preferring to wait until her Mother no longer needed her. She became isolated in the two woman household, remaining the obedient child, while in reality she was the caregiver both financially as well as emotionally. Within months of her Mother’s passing at the age of 88, she was diagnosed with cancer and soon followed her possessive parent.

Watching quietly from the sidelines I made a decision. Our children would be set free, and my husband agreed totally.

And thus we did; urging all four of them to follow their stars wherever they led. It didn’t take long for each of them to follow our advice and soon the Fabulous Four were scattered across this vast land called America.

In the beginning that was fine. We were not yet old in the true sense of the word and could visit, follow their roads and learn to meet our grandchildren.

But life never stands still, and neither did ours. We slowly but surely grew old and health cast a shadow on our easy life. Then death arrived with finality and I was alone.

I still could visit, but not as easily nor as often. I knew there were important times, holidays, but the little things that were seemingly insignificant began to escape from the landscape. Birthday dinners, perhaps unimportant, but landmarks in children’s lives were significant, yet difficult to negotiate across country and attend.

Now my children are aging also. When there is a concern, I cannot be there as easily or remain as long as I wish.

I remember I made a choice. It doesn’t seem that long ago when I encouraged them to fly their wings of independence and when I was yet unaware of the cost of that choice for me.

Yet if I were asked, “Would you do it again?”

I know the answer I would give.

“Of course, I had no choice.”