Transition from Childhood to Adulthood in a Family

My most unforgettable childhood memories are the lunchtime stories my mother read to me and my twin sister every day after lunch in our dining room. I was the only child in our apartment who actually wanted to go to the dining room much earlier before lunchtime. As a young child, I could not wait to hear the next story and when I became older, the chapter of whichever escapade she was presently reading to us. I was not only fascinated by the stories my mother read to us, there was something affectionate about sitting on the edge of my dinner chair with my mother and my dog Sheryl, lulled by the melodic sound of my mother’s voice reading the words ever so softly. I have always wished to do the same to my own children one day. It never came to my mind that I would be doing the same thing in the summer going into my senior year.

It was only in the 6th month of her pregnancy when it was declared that my mother had to undergo surgery for her fractured legs, fractured arm, and broken back; all this in a span of one month. Shockingly neither of these injuries seemed to be related to each other. She had tripped and fallen on the stairs while she was performing her normal household duties, had earlier fallen off her bike as she was heading home from the nearby grocery store and she had an ongoing disc problem respectively. When I saw my mom laying in bed with a cast on both of her legs, on her left arm, and a back brace; it hit me hard and realized that I was wrong in my childhood view that my mother was an indomitable hero just like the characters in those lunchtime stories. My mother could not do anything without the use of her legs and arm. It was evident that she required someone to be at home most of the time to take care of her since she could not do it herself. This became my responsibility and at the beginning, I was not happy at all. During my junior year, I had anxiously looked forward to the summer days of hanging out at the beach with some of my classmates. But instead, I was to be at home looking after my mother.

I had to train myself how to cook different types of food as to cope with the ever-changing diet of my mother as doctors had suggested different varieties of local foods which would go well with ensuring that she recuperates at a faster rate. After preparing food, I would dash into her room and we would eat together as I read her stories. I remember one moment when I was sulking in my room while looking at my storybooks shelf. All this time I was mentally lamenting of the injustice of my summer when my eyes caught the spine of my favorite book “hope for another day” (Fine & Fincham, 2013). I grabbed my dog Sheryl and ran with it to my mother’s room and sat at the edge of her bed and began to read the words of the book softly and loudly as she used to do. The experience was entirely different reading the words that I had loved so much to my mother. This made me appreciate the beauty associated with the depth of characters and language in a way that I had missed earlier. My mother did not generally read fiction books and would have never experienced Memoirs of Geisha or Gone with the wind had I not read them to her. The act of sharing my beloved story and my sweet-cooked food with my mother was more than special to me.

Although my original aim was to help my mother perform her household duties, I believe that it was greatly influenced by our lunchtime stories. I had always associated adulthood to things like age and independence but I did realize that adulthood is more than just the demonstration of age (Mech & Clark, 2003). Using your precious time to share an experience with another person and truly loving the moments of their enjoyment is adulthood. Taking care of my mother gave me another view of my childhood memory. There were other important things my mother could have been doing rather than reading children's books to her kids. But every day she was there with a storybook, reading lovely words that would always make me happy. My experience with my mother instilled in me a true adult concept of placing someone else’s happiness before your own just like my mother did while I was a kid.

References:

1. Fine, M. A., & Fincham, F. D. (2013). Handbook of family theories: A content-based approach. New York
2. Mech, E. V., & Clark, H. (2003). Uncertain futures: Foster youth in transition to adulthood. Washington, DC