The story of aging parents, who don’t complain often, but are distressed and bewildered, sometimes not knowing where to turn, because their children, who have grown up and have lives of their own, can’t agree or simply just don’t want to share in the precious responsibility of caring for a parent in their last years.
Each person has their own lame excuse, and between themselves, they quarrel and try to shift the burden, each feeling they might be unfairly treated, or they squabble about how a sibling can better afford to provide for them as well as being able to better attend to them.
If you have a mother or a father that needs you, do not neglect them. No one will ever be more grateful for your favors.
Deep down in your heart, you cannot forget the unselfish loving care and self-sacrifice parents make so willingly for you in your defenseless years and many times throughout your life. Yet grown adults frequently end up being selfish and self-centered when they finally settle down in life, and this makes it even more difficult to honor thy father and thy mother.
Do not wait until it is too late to do whatever you can for your aging parents. They are your parents. No one can replace them.
In many cases, the harsh agony and grief for those who pass on are caused by regrets for the things we did not do for them while there still was time. If we have actually done all that we could, we have comfort that gives us the miraculous strength to bear these inevitable hours of life.
There are many mothers and fathers, tender-hearted, with the love of their family deep in their hearts and minds, whom these lines all fittingly describe.
Never a sigh for the cares that she bore for me,
Never thought of the joys that flew by;
Her one regret that she couldn’t do more for me,
Thoughtless and selfish, her Master was I.
Oh, the long years that she gave up her all to me!
Oh, the soft touch of her hands on my brow!
Oh, the long years that she gave up her all to me!
Oh, how I yearn for her gentleness now!
Slave to her baby! Yes, that was the way of her,
Counting her greatest of services, small;
Words cannot tell what this old heart would say of her
Mother—the sweetest and fairest of all.
Anonymous