Let them eat sausage

I had lunch recently with some younger friends who were taking care of their aging parents. One’s father was in his 90s and their mother in her late 80s. The father appears to have dementia. He cannot remember what he did yesterday but he can remember things that happened a long time ago. 

Their mother is frustrated because they cannot converse with her anymore. Instead they argue all the time. This upsets the children, now in their 50s and 60s.  They decided that their father should sleep downstairs because he has trouble climbing stairs, and their mother should continue to sleep upstairs to bring their arguments to a minimum.

Suddenly I remember my grandmother’s sister and her husband. They argued all the time over the littlest things.  They spent the whole day squabbling. Then one day the husband died and four months later his wife followed. She missed their quarrels so much, missed his presence terribly, they died almost together.

This lament comes from children who live with their aging parents and are virtually driven crazy by their quarrels.  They intervene. They tell their parents how to behave.   Clearly this is role reversal. Is it the right thing for children to do? Shouldn’t children be more concerned about their parents’ enjoyment of their remaining lives than being tormented by their children telling them don’t eat this, only eat healthy food? The tormentors are the children. And the parents, because of their age, are either hard of hearing or aren’t protesting openly, though they are muttering under their breaths and banging things around.

My father still likes to eat sausages, another friend said.  Imagine that! I also still like to eat sausages, I say. Sometimes I have them for dinner. Of course, I live alone so I don’t have children who meddle with me. And maybe I am 15 years younger than your father but I’m old, anyway.  If my children were to tell me not to eat steak, or pork adobo (I love both) I would probably tell them, “Leave me alone.” I don’t tell you what to eat; please don’t tell me what to eat. I get very upset with people who meddle in my life. Maybe that’s why I love living alone. It gives me the freedom to do what I want and that makes me enjoy my life. Enjoying life is what we mean when we say “quality of life.” Life is to be lived with laughter and drinks and good food. I don’t want to grow old so people can say no to the things I like to do.

I like to do things I enjoy as long as I live. Maybe eating sausages and steak will cut my life by five years. I don’t care.  At least I enjoyed life and who wants to live to be 90, anyway?

I think about my grandmother. She led a simple life. She went to the market. She collected rentals on her property.  She visited relatives. She sewed. That was the sum of her life. I think I was born when she was 50. I remember being around 10 years old when she turned 60. My mother and aunt told her, “Mama, it’s time to rest. Don’t go to market anymore.  Just stay home. Don’t sew anymore; you will tire your eyes.  Just go visit your relatives.”

Very quietly she rebelled. She kept going to market, kept doing the things she enjoyed doing until they had no choice but to leave her alone. But I also remember when she was in her 80s and I lived with her; she didn’t like to walk around too much anymore. She would simply sit in her chairs — one in her bedroom the other in the adjoining room — and stare into space. Now I know she was trying to make sense of her life, revisiting the good times and bad, wondering about her husband, her children, her grandchildren, trying to paint a picture of her family through good times and bad until she finally could say, “I have lived a full life and soon it will be time to go.” I know I also do that now.

People who are young don’t understand what it is to be old.  I still feel young at 71. I feel like I’m in my middle 30s until I look in the mirror and wonder who the old woman staring back at me is until I realize it’s my reflection. I want young people to realize that years don’t erase personalities.  To take good care of your parents, let them enjoy life.  Make them laugh. Let them eat sausage and anything else they want. Our day of death is determined only by God, not by the food we eat or the medicines we drink. Until God calls, let them eat anything they want. Let them eat sausage.

* * *

Please text your comments to 0917-815-5570.