Oh shoot - it's my turn now ..............

Thanks so much for your lovely comments and emails to my last post. I was initially hesitant about getting too personal here on my blog and I don't know about you but I love hearing about people's lives. I know these are craft blogs but I like a bit of background about a person and oftentimes you get to realise that we've all had similar experiences which is strangely comforting.

So, where shall I start then? Looking at me now it's hard to believe that I had a very traditional Indian upbringing (my friends tease me about being so British). My parents and extended family spoke no English whatsoever and I vividly remember my first day at school because I couldn't communicate with anyone. My childhood was probably pretty exotic compared to most what with the delicious food we ate, the Indian weddings we went to, the clothes we wore, the festivals we celebrated but we weren't terribly well off and we never went on holiday. In fact we didn't get birthday presents either and I only got christmas presents from Dad's factory. I still remember my last present which was a compendium of games before my twelfth birthday when they deemed I was too old to get presents anymore. I was heartbroken.

In 1971 my little brother was born and my big sister had an arranged marriage. I took over looking after the baby when I was just ten. I also looked after my sisters as my parents worked odd hours. Years later I resented losing my childhood and having all that responsibility.

Life was fine until I reached puberty because the gates came down with a crash - now there were a hundred rules. You can't talk to boys, or go out with them, can't shave your legs, cut your hair, pluck your eyebrows, wear skirts outside school, go out socially and much more. And of course I just became angry at all this injustice. I found that by day (at school) I was English and at night I was Indian and it was sooo difficult. I became more and more angry as I got older and most of my teens were spent arguing with my parents, reading Jackie and dreaming of another life. Look how miserable I look in the next pic:

I did well at school and got eleven O levels but I lost the plot thereafter. Once in the sixth form I asked my Mum if I could go to parties but she said No (Indian girls didn't do that). So I decided that I would just do it all behind her back. I even had a boyfriend in the upper sixth in 'secret'. Sadly, I could not wait to leave home and I think I was depressed during those years. I flunked my A levels and just scraped into Poly and spent the first year doing all those things that I couldn't do before. Then I met Jim and his parents became surrogate parents to me and I think I would have gone off the rails if it hadn't been for them. My parents never knew about him even when we went to Japan together. I seem to have spent most of my life in secret from them.

Then in 1987 it was time to face the music and tell them that I did not ever want an arranged marriage. My parents were shocked, upset, tried emotional blackmail but then surprisingly gave up. Then my sister married a Kiwi and I decided to go for it too and told them about Tom. They were very disappointed but came to the wedding and have been amazing ever since. Now they think Tom is the bees knees and they love their grandchildren.

But there is a huge amount of sadness too. My Dad came here to improve his life and he ended up losing his family. Indians live for their families - especially that generation. My Mum expected us to marry and live in the same town or nearby. She would have looked after our children and it would have given her a new lease of life. Instead my parents feel worthless and lonely. They live in an Indian community where everyone has their extended family around them so it's in their faces all the time.

They seem to have a huge expectations of us like the arranged marriage thing - we were indoctrinated with the 'we brought you up, so you do this for us' line. It took a huge amount of strength to live our lives as we wanted to and we still feel guilty to this day. Indians also expect their family to look after them in their old age especially the oldest son but in our family he's buggered off to Canada.

Which brings me to why we're all so fed up. We're sick to death of parenting our parents. Ever since I could read I've been filling in their forms, translating their letters, going to my little brother's parents evenings (how uncool was that aged seventeen). I even filled in my own grant form. Basically anything that needs to be done in English is done by us (mind you it's been useful when translating a bad school report!)  They still expect to be looked after - after all they looked after us! I used to hate this notion but it's just part of their culture really.

We also feel that we've let them down. By marrying an Indian I would have joined an extended family that would have included my parents in their circle. Somewhere along the line they would have been looked after and felt valued. But the three of us have married English families who were neving going to adopt them the Indian way. The two that did have arranged marriages live abroad.

I don't want you to think badly of them. I hated them when I was growing up but after therapy when I had post natal depression I realise that they were just doing their best for us. That's all. I'm over the anger, the blame, the wish for 'normal parents' whatever that is, the wish for a Mother that I could talk to about my life. I can appreciate that I'm who I am because of my upbringing. And they are both amazing people - they came to this country, worked their socks off and produced wonderful kids. Look how they've taken Tom and the children into their lives even when the community at large was frowning at us and them.

The problem is that they're extremely lonely and dwell on their illnesses far too much. When I'm there with the children they're different people - and bar moving in with them nothing's going to change. I feel bad that I can't make my parents happy by being around all the time and I'm just fed up of my Mum's constant moaning and lonliness. She's had a very tough life but I wish she wouldn't always tell me about it - it just makes me cry.

And this week I had enough of their dependency on all of us - physical and emotional. I spent most of my time telling her not to be so pathetic. In reality, I think I probably just need to drop the baggage and get practical about helping two old people.

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Once again I'm sorry if this is dis-jointed. It took me ages to write and I wrote far too much that I then had to cut out. Forgive me for repeating myself too. I don't have the energy to re-read this for the nth time so I'm just going to go for it and press Save!

Comments

[bex]

It's wonderful that you are writing about this Simmy.
It doesn't seem disjointed, if anything I can see how by writing you are working through this.
Be gentle with yourself, alot of children don't ever think of their parent's comfort. Alot of children don't even think of their parents...Xxx

[TheAmpuT]

I think that this is great you are writing about this, but I said that yesterday.

I'm at a totally different end of the spectrum, so I can't say I relate. I am in my early 40's and have parents that are just beginning to need help. They apologize every time they need to ask (or I offer), and I have to be very careful with their feelings as they grapple with their beginning to be able do less, and needing help. I was reading this and trying to put myself in your shoes, and I feel like if it was me, I might have blown my cork (or buggered to Canada!) pretty early in the game.

On the flipside of my own family story? Every week I go to a convalescent hospital and visit people who get no visitors. None. Loneliness and aging are a difficult mix. I have much sadness on a weekly basis, and they aren't even my own family. But I would encourage you to remember that you have not left them alone. It may not be on a timeline that they appreciate right now, but you ARE there. And you have siblings that can share time, too. It sounds to me like you ARE giving of yourself to them, and keeping yourself whole simultaneously. No small matter.

I commend you for finding (and continuing to find) your own path.

[tony(a) lemos]

hey simmy,

thanks for sharing your story. it must be pretty cathartic as you are packing up and moving at the same time. our upbringing seems similar as we talked about this summer, just a different culture, greek vs indian. i have recently been struggling with some areas of parenting and have been finding myself mirroring my mother. i realize that i really lack good parenting roll models! crazy.

good luck with your move. we are off soon on our european adventure and I cannot wait. we have had such a snowy/icy winter, lake side days seems many many many moons ago.

hugs to amber and the boys

[Mary Ann/ca]

Thanks for sharing all this Simmy. My DD married a lovely first generation Indian man in August. He is an only child and his parents have hid any disappointment but she is worried they will always want more time and attention than the kids have to give. The big argument has been about moving in with them, thank goodness Surjansu says NO quicker and louder than my daughter!

[Elisa]

Thanks for sharing! It's your story and also a universal story. As times change. This is the story my mother's generation was,and sometimes is living. But things have changed in this catholic community also. And we are the lucky ones our parents decided to have a life of their own. I can imagine that it can be hard and sad for you. But there is really not much more that you can do than just love.
xxx Elisa

[Julia]

Gosh, Simi, there's just so much here. And it's a very heart breaking story in many ways--so much sadness, and so much unintended (and unacknowledged) hurt. I guess the two things that came to mind as I read were: 1)it sounds like your parents have never taken responsibility for their own happiness (to a large degree, mine haven't either) and that's hard. The truth is that there's no way for us to make another person happy, so it's a losing game from the start (but try telling _them_ that, right?) And of course, I gather from your blog that _you_ do take responsibility for your own happiness. 2)It doesn't sound like they've ever acknowledged the help you've given them, and/or that your help carried a significant cost for you. And here, after all of that, they still need more. And though they're in the time of life where you would expect them to need more, you must feel as if you've already done your part. (And, probably, you have.)It's true that you will probably have to rethink them as old people needing old people kinds of help but that doesn't make it any the less infuriating for you.

I don't know if this is of any comfort, but I know that I worry alot about replicating the sins of my parents... reading your blog gives me the distinct impression that you have been a very different kind of parent for your own children, and that you have built very different relationships with them. I think that's an achievement, I really do. It would be easy to continue the cycle of resentment and anger, but you haven't. Hats off to you, and hats off, too, to your courage in writing these posts. That took guts. In fact, living your life in the way you have has probably taken guts. So, to you!

All best,
(hope I haven't been too familiar as a blog reader out there in the ether)
Julia

[Julia]

Ugh! I misspelled your name. So sorry. I used to work with a "Simi", and I guess it became habit. My apologies, Simmy!!

[dottycookie]

Simmy, I really admire your courage in writing this, and I hope it's been helpful for you to do so. I think it's normal to feel resentment in your situation - you'd have to be a saint not to! - but honestly, you are doing things for your parents, you are helping them and taking their feelings into account - if you weren't, then you wouldn't be getting angry about this because you'd have lost touch ages ago. Be gentle with yourself.

[dottyspots]

Thank you for writing this (and the last post) - both were so interesting and must have taken quite some courage to write.

[Tinuviel]

If we never know anything about each other, the craft part doesn't matter that much. We could be reading a magazine for that matter. It's the stories, happy and sad, that make us and our blogs interesting. It matters to me what kind of upbringing and cultural experience my favourite bloggers grew up with. It's fascinating and makes for a community! Keep sharing with us. Besides, everyone needs a good vent sometimes ;)

[Marie]

Thanks so much for sharing this with us Simmy. Just as you have come to realize that your parents did the best that they knew how to do for you when you were growing up, you have to accept that you are doing the best that you can do for them. I know that is true. Every word you write speaks of your caring heart to me. We can only do what we can only do and we have to stop beating ourselves up about the rest. You have a lovely family and I can tell that you are a fantastic mother and wife and friend. I think you are a credit to your parents. I love the photo of you as a little girl. I was quite resentful of my parents when I was a girl, and I was angry with them for a long time. Then we lost my father in law and my parent's mortality came home to me and I did some really deep thinking and re-assessing. I came to realize that they did the best they knew how to do according to their experience in life. When we know better we do better. Nobody can fault anyone for doing the best they know how to do. I am sure your parents love you very much or they would have cut you out of their lives when you refused an arranged marriage as I have seen so many other's do. I love reading these things about you and how you came to be the wonderful person that you are. It's all so very interesting to me! (((hugs)))
Marie
http://journals.aol.co.uk/mariealicejoan/MariesMuses/

[Lizz]

This sharing was amazingly real. Life and all of it's living, we give so much, we have such hopes, we try and we sometimes fail. We are sad and we cannot meet everyone's needs. It's so raw sometmes. You are getting something big in the sharing of your story. I wish for clarity for you. Sounds like you have done so much healing already. Being honest and loving and gentle and patient with ourselves is so very important.

Hugs

[Tracy]

Not dis-jointed at all--it's straight from the heart! It's lovely you sharing so much as you have beeh. Sharing ourselves, our lives, our stories connects us...We're all in this life together! :o) ((HUGS))

[Sarah]

It's hard to really put yourself out there, craft blog or not, but I wanted to know that I felt badly for you after reading your story. (And for your parents too actually.) I am sure it must be a very hard struggle to try and adopt a culture that is very different from your birth culture, and even harder to be a child of people who are still trying to hold onto their old ways.

[Stacy]

Simmy, I'm so glad I found your blog.
xoxo

[Rebecca]

What a moving and fascinating post Simmy and how beautiful you and your sisters are.

I sympathise with you on parenting your parents. My mother began to give up on life about 15 years ago and has gradually become more and more of a prisoner to a combination of real and imagined illnesses finally getting to the point where she has not left the house in 4 years. It can be so hard and frustrating to deal with our parents in this way but it is important not to let it suck you in, you are doing a great job and your positive attitude to life is a credit to you and your family. Your children are benefiting from your experiences and you are giving them such a wonderful nuturing environmnent. Be proud of yourself and vent whenever you need to, it keeps you sane.