Who will remember who I was when I don’t remember?

One day last week, I spent a pleasant evening with a Chief Executive friend of mine. We had long promised ourselves a catch-up session over a pint, and last week we finally managed to arrange a time to do just that. I have to say at £4.90 a pint there was more conversation than drinking! It wasn’t a high-powered intense conversation about what was happening in the local health economy, or an opportunity to vent our feelings about national politics, although we did occasionally stray into such areas, it was just what I would call an ordinary conversation. Amongst other things, we talked of such grand things as what our respective children were doing, of the pleasure of having grandchildren (he had six, I have 11), and the never-ending task of maintaining old houses.

It was lovely to just step off the merry-go-round for a short while. In a busy world, where communication is often rushed or made up of emails, tweets, Instagram and so on, simply being able to just talk face to face without business intruding was refreshing and uplifting. It made me realise just how many of my conversations are work related, or if not work related, limited to a very small group of friends. Today is Mothering Sunday, and this morning I reflected upon this experience and wondered how many families would be celebrating a mother’s presence in their lives through physically being together. I know I won’t. My mother lives in Cardiff and I live in the North West. Even if it had been possible to travel down I’m not sure I would have. We haven’t celebrated Mothering Sunday in a face to face way for many years. Of course, I have sent a card, and a present, and will later Facetime my mother, but I guess for both of us it’s not quite the same as being physically present. 

I love my mother to bits and there is no problem with our relationship. She has always been there for me and I have tried to be there for her when she has needed me. As she gets older that becomes a more frequent occurrence. Thankfully, I come from a large family and my many brothers and sisters are also there to support both my mother and father as they grow older. That is not always the case for some people. Last week I read a report published by the Ageing Well Without Children organisation that talked about an important, but often forgotten, group in society who do not have children and are now growing old and more vulnerable. 

The report noted that there were more than a million people aged over 65 who are without children. As a group they are unsupported by family and have a higher risk of isolation, loneliness, poverty and the health problems these conditions can give rise to. Childless men are more at risk than women, and are more likely to have worse health, worse health behaviour and higher mortality that fathers. It’s reported that some 90% of LGBT people don’t have children, that 30% of people without children are more likely to be carers of their elderly parents, and 85% of people with disabilities don’t have children. The report also noted that the number of childless people is likely to double between now and 2030. 

The UK, like other parts of the world, is facing a growing situation where the number of older people in the population is growing far faster than might have been the case 20 years ago. People are living longer but are also increasingly presenting with often complex and chronic health problems than in times gone by. Consequently, there are more older people requiring care than there are adult children to provide this. Research undertaken in Wales a few years ago showed that those living without children generally found ways to develop non-kin relationships and friendships and valued their independence. Nevertheless, nearly all in this group lacked the informal support that families can bring as they grew older. Sadly, nearly all those in the study were in residential care or a long stay hospital at the end of their lives.

   

Unfortunately, the evidence on the mental health and well-being of older people without children is rather mixed. Some studies appear to show that there is little difference between this group and those who are parents, whereas other studies show higher levels of depression and anxiety. This may well be down to factors such as a person’s marital status (single men are seen to be more at risk), the degree of social and or financial capital they enjoy and the extent of their next-of-kin and non-kin networks. Kirsty Woodard, the report’s author, notes that implications for health and social care are brought into sharp focus when thinking about the increasing numbers of people living with dementia, and who might also be childless. This week’s blog title comes from the question she has heard many times when undertaking her research – ‘who will remember who I was when I don’t remember’.  On this day in particular I hope you dear reader, whether you have children or not will remember your mother, whether they are still with us, living far away or have passed on. We all have a mother, and they are special people one and all.