Tonight at dinner time, we sat besides a mother and son. The mother was probably around 70 or so. She was bent and slim. Her hands were almost gnarly. Her son, I immediately noticed was a special needs person. He looked to be in his late 40s, maybe early 50s.
The son was functional but his actions were slightly uncoordinated and he had an expression of a slight blankness.
They ate at leisure, with the mother sometimes serving the son.
When they finished eating, the son got up first and assisted his mom who took quite a bit of time and effort to get up. They walked out of the dining area. I heard the mother thank the staff.
For some reason, I felt sad as I saw them. If the mother died first as is probably the case, what would become of the son? How would he survive? I can imagine he does not have much friends his age. I can imagine his mother is the only constant in his life.
I thought of the mother’s life as she took care of her son. How many sacrifices did she make?
When most people start to breathe easy in their 60s and 70s, when the children are expected to take care of the parents, she still had to take care of her son. Was there ever a time she had regrets?
I am always introspective on special occasions : holy week, christmas, new year, my birthday… Or maybe because I spent the whole day hiking in the mountains and being close to nature – maybe that is why I feel so deeply today.
Omnia Mea Mecum Porto 