Visiting Parents.

In my extended family of siblings and cousins both maternal and paternal, I am one of the rare ones who lives with his offspring. Something that was unthinkable during my parents’s time and well into my adulthood as well. Both my parents stayed with their children during their retirement stage and died while resident with one of the children. Today, if I look at my immediate family, none of my nephews and nieces stay with parents and the parents one of whom is single, live separately.

While this is increasingly getting to be the norm here, there are constant messages on WhatsApp and facebook about the necessity for the grown up children to spend time with their parents. This is one such video showing an adult male going to visit his widowed mother. The language is Malayalam, spoken in our Southern state of Kerala. There are no subtitles but, the story line is easy to follow despite that. Pulls all the right strings! I regret that I am unable to give credit to the maker/s of the film as I am unable to find details.

9 thoughts on “Visiting Parents.”

  1. a beautiful little film. even not knowing the language it is easy enough to follow.
    I think my greatest disappointment was not getting to know my parents as adults. the marine and I sometimes talk about it. but then too… we didn’t have to watch them grow old and infirm. I think that would be very hard.

    1. Scant comfort, Tammy. Maybe you were lucky not knowing your “parents as adults”. Mine are a growing disappointment to me on so many levels.

      Still, I have the memory of my grandparents, who were my true and first parents. The most wonderful parents any child could wish for and, in an ideal world, is entitled to.


    2. It is difficult to generalise on this subject as so many different reactions have already come to me about the pluses and minuses of the relationship angle. I suppose that we simply have to accept whatever has been given to us and move on.

  2. I couldn’t, wouldn’t and most certainly don’t want to, live with my parents in a million years. I am sorry to say that both, in their different ways, are controlling. Everything has to be just so. You have to laugh. By way of example, my father tells his daughter, and possibly my siblings too, that I am a grown up. Well, Ramana, I never. Count the decades. I am an ADULT. Really? After a recent, and particularly disappointing, communication from him, I asked my father, considering that I am nearer the grave than the cradle, whether my parents have ever truly grown up and, if so, should I attest to them being ADULTS. Yes, Ramana, I got an email back saying he wasn’t going to talk to me any more. Which is fine. What took him so long? If only he knew the relief I feel. Meanwhile my mother has gone into a sulk, listing my many failings and then putting the phone down, because I didn’t call at the appointed time. Literally. Are my parents ticking alright?

    Never mind. As they say in the motherland, from now on they can stew in their own juice. And for me to say that, someone who is the most forgiving, always taking stuff on the chin, laughing it off, forgetting, takes something. For all I know, and I am laughing as I am typing this, my mother, once dead, will send me a postcard saying that I sent her to her grave earlier than expected. Yeah, well, whatever. No one guilt trips me.

    Yet, like you, uncommon as it may be these days, I too share a roof with my offspring. Not because it’s of any financial benefit to him; because he wants to. I can’t tell you how privileged I feel. Not least because his insights into life, his takes on life, keep me sharp. No calcifying in well trodden paths for me. We can talk for hours. There is a genuine spark. Our relationship couldn’t be more different than the one his grandparents have with me. We get on. Two adults under the same roof.

    I am happy for you, Ramana, just as I am happy for myself. On which note greetings to you and both your son and your daughter-in-love.


  3. We can never view this a monolith. There are myriads of feelings in a parent-child relationship. And I do remember your feelings Ramana when your father was living with you. It reminded me of my own even though I only had to share living with my father for approx a month a year when he would visit.

    So viewing it all through rosy glasses and lofted in the air children does a disservice to all those who have conflicted relationships.

    I have a wonderful relationship with one child, the other has removed herself, breaking my heart.

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