Have you ever been torn between two people who you love so immensely that it leaves you in deep agony, emanating from the pit of the stomach?
I’m faced with one of the most serious dilemmas of my life. My son’s board examination is going on and simultaneously a stone has decided to stubbornly lodge itself in my mother’s ureter, 9mm in size, to be precise! I needed to be with my mother, quell her anxiety with my presence and light banter; hold her hand as she went for her sonography, her sole companion being my father who himself is in his 80s. At the same time, I am required to be with my son, who after a couple of covid-ravaged years, is taking an important examination of his life and needed food, care and pep-talk from time to time. Additionally, we’ve planned a holiday post-examination, after 3 stressful years.
On the verge of tears, I called up a friend and shared the emotional upheaval. She consoled me by saying, “Welcome to the world of the ‘sandwich generation’, a term coined by social worker Dorothy A. Miller in 1981! We straddle across a sea of responsibilities- between the kids and our elderly parents, like skilled acrobats. Between doctor appointments, football coaching, algebraic equations, etc sometimes I feel like a filling that’s kneaded with competing emotional and labour-intensive demands. Ultimately, it’s a filling worth being.”
Tina, an acquaintance, felt her life totally metamorphose when she learnt that her mother, who lived alone in another city, was diagnosed with Huntington’s disease. Of course, she knew she had to be there for the person who always stood by her, over the years. At the same time, Tina had to tend to her twins who were 10.
She got her mother to live with her, without batting an eyelid, and that involved a back-breaking slew of tasks and oodles of patience. There are times when she feels that she is somehow still standing on her wobbly feet, resembling empty jars on a shelf still holding her form but hollow within. However, when she watches the twins share their experiences at school, animatedly with grandma, that “hollow” fills up with gratitude.
“Sometimes you have to toe the line with deft and skill, like I had to choose between my daughter’s first dance recital on stage and mother’s appointment with a celebrity orthopaedic surgeon, which materialised after months of waiting,” opined Shalini, another friend.
She shared the problem with her mother, who suggested that she be dropped off to the doctor’s clinic a bit early (she didn’t mind waiting with a book in hand, her eyes were fine) and in the meantime Shalini could attend the dance recital which was a 15 minutes show; but those minutes were the most precious, “Memories remain for posterity even when the years fly by. Take loads of pictures, I’ll share them with my friends. I’m so proud of my granddaughter!”
Shalini wound up her photo-session with the daughter and drove back to the clinic just in time to pick up her mother. Both of them came home, watched a recording of the little danseuse performing, with hearts filled with glee, over cups of tea and fritters!
As always, my mother came up with her optimistic viewpoint, when she identified the semblance of anxiety in my voice, “Go for the short trip that you’ve planned. Then come and be with me because a happy daughter would make me happier and speedier will be my recovery.”
Since I’ve just entered the realm of ‘Gen Sandwich’, I realise that doing what one loves once in a while will prevent ‘burnout’. We shall soon head to “God’s own country” (Kerala), post-exams and pre-surgery. In the meantime, I keep chanting to myself, “It shall all pass, keep the faith. The sandwich will taste more delectable this way!”
Navanita Varadpande is a writer based in Gurgaon, India. Twitter: @VpNavanita
