My son got married when he was already 33. These days its quite normal, but back then it seemed rather late. The wedding happened once his girlfriend found out she was expecting. We were overjoyed, as it meant our first grandchild was on the waya little girl, it turned out. I remember how happy we all were. Everyone was simply delighted.
My daughter-in-law, Emily, is a lovely woman. Shes a wonderful hostess, always keeps their house spotless, young and pretty, and I was genuinely amazed when I learned she could knit! That was something I never managed myself; I hardly ever held a needle. All things considered, shes a decent, kind-hearted girl and my son seems truly content, so theres not much more I could wish for.
When our granddaughter turned three, they announced another pregnancy. This time it was a boy. They soon started renovating the house wed inherited from my grandmother. We all celebratedit was nice to see the old home coming back to life. Not even three years later, Emily told us she was expecting their third. Then two years after that, she turned up pregnant again.
We manage mostly on my sons wageshe always manages to get by, picks up a bit of work here and there, knows how to mend most things himself, and seems to have a knack for building and fixing. Still, at heart hes just an ordinary lorry driver. I cant help but think, why on earth do they need a third child? Hes rarely home nowadays, always out working odd jobs on top of his driving.
Then, just before Christmas, Emily gave me a list of things the children needed. Youd think it might be sweets or toys, but not a single onejust necessities like massage oil, socks, tights, all those everyday things you cant really find on offer for a bargain.
I asked my son where on earth they planned to have the fourth baby. He just brushed it off.
At least I can say I raised a responsible, hardworking son. Hes never shied away from a job, whatever it takes to keep the family going. His wife is nearly 35 and has never had paid worknot once. I keep wondering, if she ends up having a fifth at forty, would I even be surprised? But I wont be here forever. Im getting older; soon enough I wont be able to help so much. Emilys mother passed away, so now its just me to lend a hand. At least they finally managed to finish rebuilding the house. But there they all are, squeezed in with four little ones, and its hardly a cottage.
I asked Emily, When all the help stops, what will you do? Where will you find a job at forty, never having worked a day in your life? She replied shed manage somehow. But what ifGod forbidsomething happened to my son? What then? How on earth would I help bring up all those children?
I have another son as well, and hes always going on at me for not spending enough time with his boy. The truth is, I hardly can. I spend nearly all my time helping out my eldest sons family.
