I’ve been to school the past week. The school of life. God’s school. The best teacher of all, with lessons that will never leave you asking, “Now how am I going to use that in real life?”
The class I’ve been taking is called “The Only Child Cares For The Aging Parent.” There are other classes called, “Adult Children Care For The Aging Parents,” but let me give some of you more responsible folks a heads up: be careful thinking there will always be someone to step in an exempt you from the class. Don’t be surprised when the rest of the family informs you that junior’s soccer game is preventing them from helping out, and you are it.
Being an only child is a mixed bag. I have some wonderful blessings because of it, and I have some screws loose and a few screws entirely missing. I don’t think the universe revolves around me any more than the average person, but I don’t want to share my stuff with you either.
An only child certainly knows that the day is coming when he will become the caretaker. It’s inevitable, short of tragedy. You think about it at moments when you glimpse your parents caring for their own parents. You think about it when you visit a nursing home or a hospital and see other adults in the role of decision-maker and responsible family member. You think about it briefly when you move away, or go to a new job, or pick up the phone on Sunday to call your parents and tell them some good news. You think about it when you have to ask for financial help, or advice. Something in your mind tells you: One day, your parents won’t be able to care for themselves, and you will be responsible.Continue reading “Jesus, Mom and Michael”