“You’re so lucky you don’t have kids” is one of the themes for next week’s World Childless Week. On Friday, Sept. 15, the Childless Elderwomen, including me, will discuss old age without children, a topic that scares the heck out of most of us.
Are we lucky? Let’s be honest. Sometimes we are. We’re not crawling out of bed early to make lunches and drive the kids to daycare or school, spending all our money on children’s clothes and school supplies, or having every attempt at an adult conversation disrupted by a kid who demands our attention. Mom! Mom! Mom! Dad! Dad! I’m bored!
But we’re also not having a little one snuggle with us and say, “I love you.” We’re not seeing our family traits reproduced in our children. We’re not saying “my son” or “my daughter” with pride.
We’re not worried every minute that our children might be sick, hurt, scared, or in trouble.
But we’ll never have adult children who worry that WE might be sick, hurt, scared, or in trouble. I know some kids leave the nest and never look back. But there’s a good chance they’ll be around.
Lucky? Yes, I have time to work from dawn to bedtime without interruption. I only have to take care of myself and my dog. But that feels more like a consolation prize.
We offered our lives to a partner who couldn’t/wouldn’t give us children. If that partner is still with us, they will take care of us, and we will take care of them. But what if they’re gone, or what if we never had a life partner? What if we are what some call an elder orphan? Parents gone, no spouse, no kids.
My brother visited me last week. He has a wife, two kids, and three grandchildren. The chain of people looking out for “Papa” is clear. Not so much for Aunt Sue. We huddled in the den and talked about aging and death. I handed him an envelope with all of my financial information, my wishes if I die, and a draft of my obituary. We talked about wills, powers of attorney, and health care representatives. If I’m suddenly unconscious, who will be legally allowed to take care of things? It needs to be clear and official because my nearest family member lives 700 miles away.
We talked about who I would leave my money to, about stepchildren and his children and charities I could fund. We talked about setting up a trust. With no obvious heirs, I’m free to do what I want with whatever’s left. Lucky? Maybe.
We talked, too, about who will handle things if he dies first. The possibility breaks my heart, but I may have to pay a professional, someone who doesn’t even know me.
Enough doom and gloom. But I want you to consider this visual image. A photo of my brother’s family has seven people in it. There will be more as the young ones marry and have their own kids. The photo of my family has just one person: me.
Lucky? An old Janis Joplin song says, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.”
There are advantages and disadvantages to not having children. I’m heading out of town today. I’m not taking a rambunctious three-year-old. Lucky. No one will ever call me “Mom” or “Grandma.” Not so lucky.
What do you say when someone says “You’re so lucky not to have kids.”
Are there words for that? Or do we just stare at them with a look that says, “You have no idea.”
Join us next Friday for the Childless Elderwomen talk, hosted by Jody Day. It’s at noon Pacific time. The website will help you find your time. Register at https://gateway-women.com/gateway-elderwomen/. Attendees are not visible on the screen, so you can be totally anonymous.
Visit https://www.worldchildlessweek.net for the full schedule of events.
Childless by Marriage 
I was feeling blue over the Labor Day weekend. Everyone was busy with their families. I’m at the age where they have grandkids too. It felt very lonely.
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Maribeth, I sympathize. I hate holidays. I just try to keep busy. Plan the heck out of the upcoming holidays so you’re not home alone.
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Sue, Once again you expressed what many of us feel. I’ve had this conversation with family and friends
more time than I can count. Everything you said is true. In spades ! I think American society isn’t hardwired to accept childless adults. Which is sad.
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Hi Sue, no one has ever told me those words. The phrase I get too often that gets on my nerves is “If it’s God’s will you’ll get pregnant.” There are numerous reasons that got me to the place I don’t have my own children, and none of them have to do with God not wanting me to have kids. To put all the blame on God is ludicrous to me.
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I have found that “lucky” is subjective. You can twist any situation. An acquaintance is “lucky” that she has three grown children (and a nice husband) to help her as she deals with a sudden (and rare) debilitating disease. She has a long road and they will help her.
But I look at her situation and think that I am “lucky” that I haven’t been saddled with a disease at all. My days are full of my husband, my chosen family members and full mobility. I feel a little greedy to be able to do so much and she just can’t. Now, should I be hit with a medical condition – the scales tip. I have no grown children and my husband hasn’t the best bedside manner. I think that place is call “up shit creek”.
Another casual friend had a terrifying ordeal which included a last minute (and unexpected) organ transplant. Having three young children at home, scared out of their wits – no one considered anyone “lucky” in that situation, especially her sweet husband who had a world of fright on his shoulders. She received the transplant at the final hour and she is indeed “lucky” but her status as a mother has nothing to do with that title.
My good friend who lost her husband in a tragic accident had people tell her that she was “lucky” that her children weren’t involved in the accident. She wanted to punch them in the face. To have lost the love of her life and be told that she was “lucky” to be facing a lifetime of raising four young children (one in diapers) on her own. Side note: she has thrived in the years that followed in amazing ways. Wouldn’t you know it – people still say she’s “lucky” because she doesn’t have to deal with an annoying man. She can vacation where she wants, parent the kids how she sees fit, decorate her home however she wants. People who don’t have that freedom envy her.
An elderly couple was “lucky” to have three sons. Strong, helpful young men who ran the family farm. Lucky indeed. They lost all three of them in a single farming accident. There is a daughter-in-law and some grandchildren left to comfort them. And a lot of farm work. They are no longer “lucky”.
My childless state is on my mind many, many times in a day. But I have learned to feel my joys (maybe “luck”) that I am healthy. My husband and parents are healthy. I’m physically strong. Reasonably attractive, reasonably intelligent, reasonably talented – and loved by enough people.
I would not want someone to tell me I’m “lucky” to not have children because it is a sadness that overtakes me sometimes. But I’m learning to not glorify those who are blessed with children. At their core, children are just people. I am slowly filling my life with a handful of people who I can count on now (should I suddenly need someone) and in the future as I age.
I’m not “lucky” I am simply living.
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Beautiful. Thank you, Anon S.
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