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Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”
Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”
Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”
As I was preparing the ginger oil for the hand-shredded chicken for dinner, my mother came upstairs holding her phone and told me that a friend from China had just sent her a voice message saying that an old neighbour, “Old So-and-so” (a pseudonym), had passed away. Due to COVID-19. My mom sighed, saying that it had been just a month since coming to Canada, and she had already heard about two friends passing away. She asked me somewhat puzzled, “Does COVID-19 still exist now?” I replied calmly, “Of course, it still exists. It has become like the flu, capable of coming back every year.”
As I continued the work on my hand, I pondered: are my parents now thinking that every extra day they live is a blessing? I once read somewhere that when people truly age, they start thinking like this: every additional day of life is a stroke of luck.
Because of the COVID-19 outbreak, we have been separated from our parents since 2019, more than four years. Fortunately, the internet allows us to still frequently connect via video calls, check on each other, and chat about our current situations. But what we could really know is as limited as the camera captures frame. After enduring four and a half years of separation and experiencing near-death infections because my parents, both, suddenly contracted COVID-19 in China after China abandoned the “zero-COVID policy” – they were hospitalized, though fortunately they recovered – I finally made up my mind to personally go back to bring my parents to Canada to live with us for a while. It is better to do so right now when they are still able-bodied.
Although my parents are in their seventies, and they still appear relatively healthy, time has unapologetically taken away many things from them. And I only realize these changes when I spend day and night with them.
For example, their memory has noticeably declined. While my mother has always been forgetful, I was prepared to repeat instructions several times when telling her where something is or how something should be used appropriately, my father’s mind used to be quite sharp. But now, he often puts things in the wrong place while tidying up the tableware, occasionally putting unwashed kitchenware back into the cabinet, and forgetting how to use a steam mop that I showed him just over ten days ago.
For another example, my mother, who used to be very skilled at cooking in my memory, now seems to have forgotten how to make some dishes, although she still takes charge of cooking dinner at home since coming to Canada. Initially, I just wanted to help her reduce her workload, so I would assist in making one or two dishes every day. But later, I found that she needed me to teach her how to make many common dishes. Besides the fact that I’ve been a parent for over a decade and learned to make many dishes that my mother never made, I think it could be because she and my father have been living alone on their own for a long time, their demand for cooking has been not as much as they were living with us or my sibling’s, her skills have degraded as a result. – From this perspective, having parents live with us and letting them participate in daily housework could be a way to help them slow down aging.
Furthermore, since my parents came, working from home has become somewhat challenging for me. They seem to have trouble understanding what remote work entails, or they would often completely forget that, when I am sitting in front of my computer during work days, I’m working, not playing. So, one time, my father decided to rearrange some tangled cables by unplugging the ones connected to the internet, without realizing I was in a meeting. As you can imagine, my meeting was abruptly interrupted. Meanwhile, there have been several occasions when I was either listening to my colleagues or speaking in a remote meeting, and my mother would come over to tell me something irrelevant, like asking what to do if she forgot to cook rice.
If this had happened many years ago when I was more impatient, I would have been quite annoyed. Repeating the same thing over and over again, or being interrupted repeatedly during work, would have made me very frustrated. But now, besides feeling helpless, I’m also worried about them. I deliberately call my mother over and point out where something is instead of just telling her where it is, making it easier for her to remember; or demonstrate how to use an appliance or garden tool in front of my father, rather than just explaining it verbally.
Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”
As I was preparing the ginger oil for the hand-shredded chicken for dinner, my mother came upstairs holding her phone and told me that a friend from China had just sent her a voice message saying that an old neighbour, “Old So-and-so” (a pseudonym), had passed away. Due to COVID-19. My mom sighed, saying that it had been just a month since coming to Canada, and she had already heard about two friends passing away. She asked me somewhat puzzled, “Does COVID-19 still exist now?” I replied calmly, “Of course, it still exists. It has become like the flu, capable of coming back every year.”
As I continued the work on my hand, I pondered: are my parents now thinking that every extra day they live is a blessing? I once read somewhere that when people truly age, they start thinking like this: every additional day of life is a stroke of luck.
Because of the COVID-19 outbreak, we have been separated from our parents since 2019, more than four years. Fortunately, the internet allows us to still frequently connect via video calls, check on each other, and chat about our current situations. But what we could really know is as limited as the camera captures frame. After enduring four and a half years of separation and experiencing near-death infections because my parents, both, suddenly contracted COVID-19 in China after China abandoned the “zero-COVID policy” – they were hospitalized, though fortunately they recovered – I finally made up my mind to personally go back to bring my parents to Canada to live with us for a while. It is better to do so right now when they are still able-bodied.
Although my parents are in their seventies, and they still appear relatively healthy, time has unapologetically taken away many things from them. And I only realize these changes when I spend day and night with them.
For example, their memory has noticeably declined. While my mother has always been forgetful, I was prepared to repeat instructions several times when telling her where something is or how something should be used appropriately, my father’s mind used to be quite sharp. But now, he often puts things in the wrong place while tidying up the tableware, occasionally putting unwashed kitchenware back into the cabinet, and forgetting how to use a steam mop that I showed him just over ten days ago.
For another example, my mother, who used to be very skilled at cooking in my memory, now seems to have forgotten how to make some dishes, although she still takes charge of cooking dinner at home since coming to Canada. Initially, I just wanted to help her reduce her workload, so I would assist in making one or two dishes every day. But later, I found that she needed me to teach her how to make many common dishes. Besides the fact that I’ve been a parent for over a decade and learned to make many dishes that my mother never made, I think it could be because she and my father have been living alone on their own for a long time, their demand for cooking has been not as much as they were living with us or my sibling’s, her skills have degraded as a result. – From this perspective, having parents live with us and letting them participate in daily housework could be a way to help them slow down aging.
Furthermore, since my parents came, working from home has become somewhat challenging for me. They seem to have trouble understanding what remote work entails, or they would often completely forget that, when I am sitting in front of my computer during work days, I’m working, not playing. So, one time, my father decided to rearrange some tangled cables by unplugging the ones connected to the internet, without realizing I was in a meeting. As you can imagine, my meeting was abruptly interrupted. Meanwhile, there have been several occasions when I was either listening to my colleagues or speaking in a remote meeting, and my mother would come over to tell me something irrelevant, like asking what to do if she forgot to cook rice.
If this had happened many years ago when I was more impatient, I would have been quite annoyed. Repeating the same thing over and over again, or being interrupted repeatedly during work, would have made me very frustrated. But now, besides feeling helpless, I’m also worried about them. I deliberately call my mother over and point out where something is instead of just telling her where it is, making it easier for her to remember; or demonstrate how to use an appliance or garden tool in front of my father, rather than just explaining it verbally.
Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”
As I was preparing the ginger oil for the hand-shredded chicken for dinner, my mother came upstairs holding her phone and told me that a friend from China had just sent her a voice message saying that an old neighbour, “Old So-and-so” (a pseudonym), had passed away. Due to COVID-19. My mom sighed, saying that it had been just a month since coming to Canada, and she had already heard about two friends passing away. She asked me somewhat puzzled, “Does COVID-19 still exist now?” I replied calmly, “Of course, it still exists. It has become like the flu, capable of coming back every year.”
As I continued the work on my hand, I pondered: are my parents now thinking that every extra day they live is a blessing? I once read somewhere that when people truly age, they start thinking like this: every additional day of life is a stroke of luck.
Because of the COVID-19 outbreak, we have been separated from our parents since 2019, more than four years. Fortunately, the internet allows us to still frequently connect via video calls, check on each other, and chat about our current situations. But what we could really know is as limited as the camera captures frame. After enduring four and a half years of separation and experiencing near-death infections because my parents, both, suddenly contracted COVID-19 in China after China abandoned the “zero-COVID policy” – they were hospitalized, though fortunately they recovered – I finally made up my mind to personally go back to bring my parents to Canada to live with us for a while. It is better to do so right now when they are still able-bodied.
Although my parents are in their seventies, and they still appear relatively healthy, time has unapologetically taken away many things from them. And I only realize these changes when I spend day and night with them.
For example, their memory has noticeably declined. While my mother has always been forgetful, I was prepared to repeat instructions several times when telling her where something is or how something should be used appropriately, my father’s mind used to be quite sharp. But now, he often puts things in the wrong place while tidying up the tableware, occasionally putting unwashed kitchenware back into the cabinet, and forgetting how to use a steam mop that I showed him just over ten days ago.
For another example, my mother, who used to be very skilled at cooking in my memory, now seems to have forgotten how to make some dishes, although she still takes charge of cooking dinner at home since coming to Canada. Initially, I just wanted to help her reduce her workload, so I would assist in making one or two dishes every day. But later, I found that she needed me to teach her how to make many common dishes. Besides the fact that I’ve been a parent for over a decade and learned to make many dishes that my mother never made, I think it could be because she and my father have been living alone on their own for a long time, their demand for cooking has been not as much as they were living with us or my sibling’s, her skills have degraded as a result. – From this perspective, having parents live with us and letting them participate in daily housework could be a way to help them slow down aging.
Furthermore, since my parents came, working from home has become somewhat challenging for me. They seem to have trouble understanding what remote work entails, or they would often completely forget that, when I am sitting in front of my computer during work days, I’m working, not playing. So, one time, my father decided to rearrange some tangled cables by unplugging the ones connected to the internet, without realizing I was in a meeting. As you can imagine, my meeting was abruptly interrupted. Meanwhile, there have been several occasions when I was either listening to my colleagues or speaking in a remote meeting, and my mother would come over to tell me something irrelevant, like asking what to do if she forgot to cook rice.
If this had happened many years ago when I was more impatient, I would have been quite annoyed. Repeating the same thing over and over again, or being interrupted repeatedly during work, would have made me very frustrated. But now, besides feeling helpless, I’m also worried about them. I deliberately call my mother over and point out where something is instead of just telling her where it is, making it easier for her to remember; or demonstrate how to use an appliance or garden tool in front of my father, rather than just explaining it verbally.
Perhaps, my “maturity” is another evidence of my parents getting older. When the people you once relied on, or those you could share burdens with, now need to rely on you and cannot share burdens anymore, you would naturally “grow up.”