For my mother, watching her granddaughter feels like an impossible puzzle.
All my friends have mums who can look after their little ones without a hitch. My own mother keeps repeating the same line: Its my child, Ive brought up yours. My daughter, Lily, is five and goes to the local nursery. Two years ago, after my maternity leave, I returned to work as a primaryschool teacher, and I cant afford to take many days off. In those moments I would love my mother to be there.
Winter gives me long stretches of idle time, especially since I have no country cottage to escape to. Mother sits at home all day, her only companions the television and the endless telephone chatter with her friends. She has no other pursuits. Last week we visited the optician and discovered that Lilys eyesight is slipping. I called my mother and told her we must take Lily to the eye clinic for ten days. We pick her up from the nursery at half past one and drive her there in the morning. Everything is almost within arms length the nursery, the clinic, Mothers flat.
Lily is wellbehaved and Mother knows it. She isnt grouchy, she makes no noise, she causes no trouble, she eats whatever is put before her. Yet a deep aversion to the child lives in her. One day I needed Mothers help because both James and I had to be at work.
It would be wonderful if Mother could come and stay with us for a few days, but she simply cannot. We are lucky to have relatives nearby who can step in when needed. My grandmother lives next door and lately seems to have nothing better to do, so it would make sense for her to look after the baby while we work. It would cost us nothing, as she is close, and it would lift a great weight from James and me.
Since Mother retired, I support her financially. I send her money and pay the rent in full twice a month. When James and I go shopping, we take Mother along and she pays for everything herself. On every holiday I give her lavish, expensive presents. Mother takes this assistance for granted, assuming it is my duty to bring her food and cover her mortgage because I am her daughter. I cannot understand that logic! My child is my responsibility, not a burden I should merely tolerate.
It seems grandmothers are not obligated to help their children, yet they often do. Do you think thats right? It hurts me deeply I try so hard for Mother and she does not seem to appreciate it.
