Im fifty now, and Ive been living with my parents ever since I fell pregnant at a young age. My son is twenty already. I have a brother and a sister, both of whom have homes of their own. My older brother, William, is a solicitor, and my younger sister, Alice, is married and lives with her husband. For years, Ive had enough of an income to buy a place of my own, or even to purchase my fathers house outright. Ive tried, more than once, but one way or another, theres always something that stalls the paperwork. The only condition I haveif I were to buy the houseis that it remain in my fathers name for the rest of his days, so hed never feel insecure or at risk of being left out in the cold. But for now, nothing much has been agreed upon.
My father is in his seventies, blunt and often rather sharp with his words. Its not that he refuses to do things, hes just no longer able to do as much as he used tolike most people as they grow old. Hes been a widower for four years now, missing my mother every day.
Both my son and I work, and together we cover most of the household expensesbills, groceries, daily food. My father chips in a bit from his pension when he can, but hes become quite thrifty and a tad suspicious. My brother pops round for half an hour maybe once every six months. My sister, who doesnt work, helps out by keeping my father company and cooking for himthough we do pay her a modest amount for her timewhile my son and I are at work.
Father, even when the food is ready, will not eat unless we serve it to him. He rarely does anything around the house these days, aside from occasionally playing with Bella, my spoiled dog, watching the telly, and napping. His biggest worries now are that well run out of candles at home or at the cemetery and of course, he dotes on Bellathe granddaughter who lounges in comfort on the bed while he takes his rest.
Admittedly, sometimes I grumble because there are moments when nearly all the responsibility for food, bills, and house expenses falls to me. But then I remind myself how grateful I actually am: I can still look after my dad, keep him company, worry about him, chat and laugh with him, and watch as he adores my son and the dog. He gave me everything from day one; now its my time to return that love and dedicationthrough my care, my time, my emotional and financial support.
Some people suggest I move out, find my own place, but I refuse. Who would look after my father if something happened to him, in the small hours or any time at all? It pains me to picture him alone at home, left only with memories and longing, or out shopping by himself risking a fall. Sometimes he does go out on his own, but we always know where he is, and we accompany him to the doctors and such. I just couldnt live with the guilt and worry after all hes done for me.
However he might befrugal, grumpy, sometimes cross, sometimes light-hearted, at other times forlorn and anxioushes my father. And I owe much of who I am today to him (and to my late mother).
What will I leave behind for my son when Im gone? Ill leave him the tools to work, to fight his corner, his education, my example (I can only hope its the best I can give), and perhaps, if things work out as Id like, my fathers houseon the important condition I mentioned earlier: for as long as my father lives, he remains the rightful owner, even if Im the one paying for it.
If Ive learned anything through all of this, its that caring for those we love isnt a burden but a blessing; and when the time comes, I hope my son will remember the example I tried to set.
