Growing Old

                                  Growing old and how? Do I watch out for those tell-tale signs of ageing? The first grey hair, the odd wrinkle, ……. Are these telling me that I am growing old?  No, not really, in a roundabout way it is Ramam letting me know, Amma, you are growing old. As I see mothers of the younger ones discussing the initial diagnosis, seeking advice on potty training, quite unwittingly have I fallen in to the senior bracket! His needs to attend to nature‘s call in public place is another way of me knowing that he is a big boy and me no young either. He now uses only the gents’ toilet. Gone are the days when he would accompany me to the ladies toilet. And the big, big giveaway, is my receding hairline and my son beginning to sport the first minute traces of facial hair on his upper lip. It would be ridiculous to call it a moustache, but yes it is very much there for a pair of trained eyes to see. And of course that would be me and my husband.

                                  Then I come back to the question growing old and how? .Before long, I would wake up to find that Ramam would be 20. My days may not be dictated by his therapy schedule. The journey began long ago. It is akin to crossing a bridge, from point A to point B, crossing it being inevitable. But when you have the support and understanding of your loved ones, it is easier. Somebody with whom you can talk to what Ramam was when he was 2yrs old and laugh over it, lest the journey be too tedious, somebody to share your moments with, somebody to share the responsibilities. Sometimes I do wonder what Rama would like as a 40 yr old.

                            Sometimes it makes me ponder about life. In the year and half that I moved to Bangalore, two mothers have been widowed, one’s husband is in and out of the hospital, somebody’s husband has lost his job. Apart from the major task of handling an autistic child, how many other upheavals do parents face? At the end of the day, I just pray let my family be there for me as I grow old and so there I have answered the HOW. Anyway it is not such a rosy picture as I paint it to be as there some frictions, minor tensions, brick bats along the way. It is but natural there are some thunderstorms and even tsunamis ,but they abate leaving me thankful for what I have!