But you know that it will, due to the lacking in the long-term care policies that work that are still not quite, set up by the, government here! Off of the Front Page Sections, translated…
Mother’s Day is here again, the scent of carnation is the symbol of mothers, and, we don’t need to put mothers on that high pedestal, their kindness toward us, we can’t, repay them for all of our, lives.
In the times of thanks, there are however, a group of aging mothers who are taking care of their own young, as they’re, growing, older. The 8050 Trend reported by the “Orange Generation”, the parents in their eighties, raising their fifty-year-old midlife age children, their golden years, are, shadowed over by the dark clouds of long-term care, they can’t see the beautiful rays of the setting sun, there’s no rainbow after the rain, it’s a never-ending war, also, a tragedy of Mother’s, Day.
I have a friend with polio, she had never been married and is already sixty, and in her midlife years, she’d been diagnosed with diabetes, and now, she’s looked after by her elderly eighty something mother. When she was younger, her mother told her, that it’s okay she never marries, so long as she’s healthy and happy, but, as she entered into midlife, the assortment of conditions came at her, and in her mother’s elderly years, she’s responsible for caring for her own adult daughter, Mother’s Day had never been easy for her, no need for blessings of any sort, and her only hope, is to, get away, from the hells of long-term care.
I’d bumped into a mother-son pair on the weekends, sometimes at the marketplace, sometimes, on my way to the marketplace. This mother-son pair live close by, the son wedded a foreign woman, later his wife ran off, it was only him and his mother. He work during the weekdays, his mother took care of the meals. On weekends, the two would go shop for groceries together, the mother walks in front, and her son was like a guard, walking behind her, very, carefully, he looked similar in stature to his own mother, as the mother passed through the butcher’s, the vegetable, fruit stands, fish, stopped, the son’s arms were fully hung with the plastic bags, and that, is what marked the weekend marketplace.
This seemingly nice picture, quite harmonious, but actually, the man never got over his own wife running off, became severely depressed, and had to quit work, and could no longer shop at the markets with his mother now. Later, the woman would come to the markets, in her cane by the weekends, and would greet those whom she was acquainted with, not knowing when her son will get better, and how much longer she can, take care of him, or maybe, one day, she would, die before him.
My neighbor’s fifty-year-old son was sent to prison a few years back for something, the siblings had given up on him, only his aging mother didn’t, every other week, she would bring his favorite meals to visit him in prison. As he was released, he’d moved in with his mother, couldn’t find a job, became, a borderline person of the society, and started working odds and ends, picking up the recycle materials to sell for measly income, and his mother can only put up the money she’d saved to help him make his own ends, meet.
The trend of eighty-fifty is that heavy lock and chain in old age, it had all the untold sorrows of the parents, a deeper sort of imprisonment than the prisons. I hope that there won’t be any more of the tragedies of the eighty-fifty in society repeatedly, hope that the systems of welfare the government set up can be more complete, that we the offspring can all become those whom our parents can, rely on when they’re, older.
And so, these are cases of how the aging parents are still responsible for their adult children, for whatever reasons there may be, and this is bad, because these aging parents deserve a break, but they simply, can’t get it.
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