I see my dad every day. We say good morning and get on with our work for the day. We say good night and go to sleep.
I’m so used to seeing him that I never really noticed that he’d aged.
But that all changes when we sit down and reminisce as a family, looking through old photos and retelling stories, even listening to songs that remind us of days we’ve spent together. All the memories come flooding back. Soon it becomes apparent that he’s getting older. In fact, we all are.
This realisation was especially strong when my dad got a second job picking up COVID-19 test kits for Royal Mail.
When he told me he got the job, a feeling of guilt began to grow inside my stomach. “He shouldn’t have to work every single day of the week,” I kept telling myself. I was worried that he was overworking himself and he’d become tired too quickly, rather than enjoying moments, thinking about retiring and taking life at a slower pace. It upset and worried me.
The cogs started to turn and, as he began his addition shifts, I soon saw him as someone who was tired more often, someone who was still working hard to get by. We envision our parents as being comfortable when they grow old, not working extra shifts, but this wasn’t the case for my dad.
Seeing my dad every day means I don’t always recognise the physical changes of growing older. Having the eyes of someone who hadn’t seen my dad in so long made me realise how much he’d changed. I suddenly saw him as the person he’s grown to be because the worry and guilt of him continuously working made me confront the obvious. I was able to see his vulnerability and I couldn’t detach from seeing his fragility.
At some point in a child’s life, we’re faced with a moment that makes us face the reality. This was mine.
The realisation for Sarah came from a distressing situation that meant she had no choice but to acknowledge time and ageing. After her mum was diagnosed with cancer, Sarah saw her preconceptions of the disease — that it was connected to old age — to be radically reconsidered.
“I always found that my parents were older than my classmates, but it really hit me as they started to get ill. My mum had cancer and I’ve always linked that with the older generation,” she says.
For Sarah, caring for her parents became a way of coping. “I know they won’t be around forever, sometimes I get on a health kick and fill meals with veggies just to make my brain think that will make them healthy and live longer,” says Sarah. “I get scared that if I had kids in my 30s, my parents would be too old to help look after them.”
21-year-old Joshua’s realisation was more gradual. “I started realising my dad was old when he wasn’t able to do things he found easy to do before,” he says. “Simple things like bending over, long walks and playing sports.”
“Obviously no one likes to think of their parents getting old, it’s hard thinking that the people who have taken care of you all your life will one day need help in return,” says Joshua.
This can be a difficult process to witness: seeing the change from being the cared for to the carer.
We see these roles change all the time because when we grow old, it doesn’t only mean we become fit and strong, we also eventually deteriorate. Once you’ve realised the obvious, it’s hard to ignore it. Simple things like walking with them can bring the guilt feeling because you don’t want this difficulty for your parents.
Our parents look after us, they help us through our childhood and shape us into the people we are today. For some, they then believe that their role is to take care of their parents when they need it.
Realising our parents are growing older is also a reflection of our own ageing and, for many, that ageing process is a daunting thing to comprehend. It shows us that life is passing us by and that eventually the people we love will pass away. But this worry from the realisation we have is normal and we all experience in some way. According to Health Central, “this realisation that you are suddenly coping with is more about you than them.”
Though it is so natural, it doesn’t make it easier to face, but there is comfort in knowing that it is an experience that we all share. Maybe one day someone will be having the same realisation about us. I know I wouldn’t want them dwelling for too long, I’d want them to enjoy the moment.
Words by Maia Flora
Love Lifestyle? Read more here.
Support The Indiependent
We’re trying to raise £200 a month to help cover our operational costs. This includes our ‘Writer of the Month’ awards, where we recognise the amazing work produced by our contributor team. If you’ve enjoyed reading our site, we’d really appreciate it if you could donate to The Indiependent. Whether you can give £1 or £10, you’d be making a huge difference to our small team.