For the past twenty years, Ive lived with my daughter and her husband, but I truly havent the strength to bear it any longer.
Im 65, a grandfather to seven grandchildren. Many would say Im fortunate, and perhaps I would agree, if only I wasnt constantly tasked with looking after them and enduring their racket each day. My daughter, Alice, seems blissfully unaware of the fact she has so many children underfoot.
When my sixth granddaughter was born, I sat Alice down for a serious chat. I never thought Id be having the talk about family planning with my thirty-five-year-old daughter. Then, when they decided on a seventh child, my head just spun. The house only has five rooms, yet now nine people call it home.
Alice is lucky that my late wife and I worked our whole lives to build a larger house and buy a bit of land out in the countryside. Now her husband, William, works our fields and refers to himself as a farmer. Alices right there beside him helping, while I spend every hour in the kitchen, turning out enough meals for what feels like an entire classroom. The children keep growing, they always want morenobodys satisfied with yesterdays leftovers, it has to be freshly cooked.
After the sixth granddaughter arrived, I hoped Alice would understand and give me some respite from the endless crying and nappy-changing. Alas, it was not to be.
All this time, Ive kept in touch with my younger brother Daniel, who lives alone in Bristol after his daughter moved abroad. One evening, Daniel rang and asked if I could come stay, as he wasnt feeling well. Naturally, I was worried about him, but if Im honest, I was also relieved to escape the never-ending merry-go-round at home. Now Daniels recovering, and after getting a taste of peace and quiet these past weeks, Im not certain I can bear the thought of returningback to the relentless clamour.
While living with my brother, I remembered all the things I love: reading, listening to music, watching a good film. At last, Im getting a glimpse of what retirement should feel like, instead of wishing my grandchildren would hurry up and grow. Yet, I cant quite bring myself to tell Alice and the rest of my family.
Now Alice is phoning, urging me to come home because she cant manage on her own. I dont know what to do.
