Not too long ago I was having a conversation with Felecia Cannon at The Back Porch. During the conversation, we began discussing how she and her husband are both older parents. I revealed that I was the product of older parents. My dad was in his early 50s and my mom was in her mid-30s when I was born.
During our conversation, Felecia asked me two things: when was the first time I realized I had older parents and how did I feel about having older parents.
The first time I realized I had older parents, or more specifically an older father, was when I was in second grade. My class was having some type of in-class ceremony where students received awards and presented a program to our families. I was about eight years old, and assumed everyone had parents like mine.
You can imagine my surprise when all the other parents walked in and they didn’t look like mine. I looked at the dads in the room, who for the most part were in their 30s, and was surprised because I didn’t understand ages yet.
That was the first time I realized I had older parents, but I really didn’t care. They were still my parents. You really have not heard an insult until someone says “Your dad is older than my grandparents!” or “Your dad is the same age as my great-grandmother!”
Coming to the realization that my parents were older was not some life changing event in my life by any means. They were still my parents, and I loved them, no matter what.
This brings me to the second question. Felecia told me a story of how she knew a young woman who had older parents, but did not like it. She asked me if I had any resentment toward my parents. The answer I gave was a flat out no. My parents were terrific at being parents.
Although they were older, we still did things as a family. We went to the fair almost every year, we went to movies, to parks, high school football games, amusement parks and way more than I can list. Sure, as they got older they could not do as much, and as the baby of the family, things like trips become less frequent.
However, they made sure I was cared for, I always had new clothes for school, food to eat and a roof over my head. I was also loved, which is the number one thing any child wants from a parent. My parents would also do things with me, like go to movies they had no interest in or go to events that bored them.
To be honest, I am not sure what experiences a younger parent can provide that my parents did not. In fact, I could think of more benefits from having an older parent.
For example, my dad, being born in 1937, lived through a lot of experiences in Charleston and in life. He knew the history of the area and he knew almost everyone. He was an assistant coroner for a while and told me about his experiences. I will not lie; I wish he had not told me some of them.
When we would take trips to different cities in the Charleston area, he would show me the grocery store he once owned, the area he grew up and the schools he went to.
The same goes for my mom. I have learned so much from her experiences that they have helped shape me. Due to her love of history, she would ask her parents (who were older parents as well) questions and she retained that information. She has been able to tell me those stories and give me memories of my grandparents even though I never knew them.
Being a child of parents who had you late in life does have one drawback. Two of my grandparents (Mom’s mom and Dad’s dad) passed away before I was born, one passed away when I was two years old (Mom’s dad) and the only grandparent I remember (Dad’s mom) passed away when I was about six. My dad passed away when I was 19 years old.
Although I lost all this family and those connections I still ask questions. Even though they are gone, I can still learn more about them by asking questions. When I see my mom I ask for details all the time about her family, and about details of Dad’s family. When I see other relatives I talk to them and get as much information as I can. This is something I would recommend to everyone. It is never too late to ask questions and learn about your family. Just because they are gone does not mean they are forgotten.
Having older parents does not make life an imposition. No matter what, they are your parents, and that goes for any type of parent. I still love them and I would not trade them for anyone else.