In Loco Parentis

It’s not seemly to brag, and if I were the man I’d like to be, I’d never do it.  But I must confess to telling my children about a recent and unexpected academic honor.  In the past, I’d tell my parents, my father really, for I was such a scapegrace as a teenager that I had no honors to report to my mother before she died at the lamentable age of 47, when I was 19.   So it was my father who became my outlet for bragging.  He didn’t mind.  In fact, he was pleased.  But he’s been dead for 35 years.  Since his death I’ve had to tell him in imaginary conversations.  So this time I told my children instead of my father.  This gives a new meaning to in loco parentis.

But in fact our children have been acting a bit like our parents for some time, a monumental role reversal.  This is especially true of our daughter, who, with her family, lives in the other wing of our building.  It was our daughter who insisted that we move permanently to New York.  We reluctantly followed her advice and we’re now glad we did.  She calls us every day.  “What’s up?” she usually asks us after we say hello.  My impression is that she wants to make sure that we haven’t gotten ourselves into any trouble.  She’s right to do so, for it will be she who’ll be in charge if we become incapacitated.  As a palliative care social worker, she’s supremely qualified to do so.

Our son, living in California, is necessarily less involved in our day-to-day lives.  He mainly confines himself to advice regarding our investments.  He graduated summa cum laude in math, earned a PhD in economics, and has succeeded in his business ventures, so he’s well worth listening to.  And occasionally we take his advice.  He also encourages us to fly business class.   My wife and I feel we can’t afford it, and so far we’ve continued to fly cattle class, but his advice calls to mind a late friend who told me “if we don’t fly business class, our children will.” 

At the moment, neither of our children reaches for our hand before we cross the street.  We're still able to live without assistance and to organize our lives ourselves, but if the time comes when we’re no longer able to do so, I for one won’t resist our children’s efforts on our behalf.  Many elderly who become incompetent fight nonetheless to retain their autonomy.  Not me.  I’ll be glad to let go and allow our caring and sensible kids to take over.  And if they weren’t so busy, I wouldn’t mind giving them a few of my chores right now.



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