Cherish Your Parents Today

My father died in 1980, at a time in my life when I was preoccupied with my career and my immediate family. At the time I selfishly paid little or no attention to the needs of my aging parents. Sadly, my father and I had been both estranged and geographically separated by 3000 miles for many years. My father had suffered from multiple sclerosis for perhaps 20 years but the primary cause of his death was malignant melanoma. My mother provided my father’s only real support during the last 20 years of his life. Not only did my mother return to the workplace after my father became ill, she also became my father’s sole care-giver, despite being half his size.

Although I immediately went to my mother’s aid after my father’s death, I felt strangely detached from the event of my father’s death. I still “blamed” my dad for the stupid inconsequential things over which we had become distant. It wasn’t until some years later that I became sufficiently mature to accept responsibility for my own actions and to genuinely regret the years of relationship with my father that I had thrown away. I had turned my back on the man who raised me, clothed me, and struggled to put me through college. Why? Who benefited from my stupidity? Nobody? Who was hurt by my stubbornness? I was, my family was, and certainly my mother was hurt most of all.

My mother lived 24 years after the death of my father. She continued to work for another 6 years before moving across the country to live near us. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake again, or so I thought. Yet, just a few years after my mother moved to our neighborhood, I accepted an employment opportunity in another country and again left my mother. At least we were on good terms during our six-year separation, my brother was able to fill the void, and my mother did have an excuse to travel to Europe. Eventually, my wife and I returned from overseas, relocated within the US, and we moved my mother to our new neighborhood.

During the next three years I spent a lot of time with my mother. She remained active and her mind was sharp but she became physically frail. Still, she often acclaimed aloud in amazement that she was more than 90 years old and “Look, nothing hurts!” She no longer drove a car so she depended upon me to take her to the grocery and to the doctor. I had to open some of her “elder-adult-proof” groceries and medication containers. Although she was never the least bit demanding, there were times when I grumbled (to myself and to my wife) about her dependency on me. Sometimes I hurried away after our little trips so I could attend to my “needs” (or, more appropriately, my wishes). Despite the illogic of it, I believed she would always be there and we could always do tomorrow what I didn’t want to do today. Well, I was dead wrong! My dear mom started a rapid decline in health. Before I knew it she was too weak to do the things I had put off for my own convenience. And … then … she was gone. Gone forever.

Almost four years have passed since my mother’s death. I still want to finish conversations we never finished and some we never started. I still regret the things I didn’t do with mom … especially those things I postponed “for another day.” So, if there’s a message in my story, it’s to “cherish the moment” with your parents and other elder family members, and to not put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Trust me, regret is a heavy load.