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11 October 2007

My mother's daughter

What is it about senior citizens and going to fetch milk? (or it is fruits). I know of so many friends who are at their wits end because of this one aspect. Their really old parents insist on going to the market or corner shop to get something.

This collegue calls up home to check on his aged parents and, where's Dad? Gone to get milk is the answer. At seven in the evening. Is it really neccessary, he despairs. With the dangerous state of roads, drivers and potholes, it is as if an accident is waiting to happen with brittle bones and failing vision. Mostly in the city now, every small shop organises home delivery of small items and medicines and such and a phone call would suffice. An evening walk in the garden would provide exercise and social interaction. But making use of all these facilities is eschewed for the "running an errand". I muse, is it a question of feeling useful, asserting independence through the small rebellious act,( after all old age is second childhood) or is it just a plain old death wish. We'll never know.

And by the time we are old (er) we will never accept that we are doing the very thing that made us mad when we were young (er).

I know when I was a child, I'd find it greatly mystifying and amusing, even sometimes laugh when my mother shed a tear/s at a "senti" movie scene. Now, I remember a poem that I used to read at the British Council as part of their poems on the undeground,the transport system of London.

Is it the same with fathers and sons too?

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