Looking through a sepia lens
In her ongoing series about the people who live at Ruawai Rest Home, Carly Thomas talks to the residents about raising children.
My Tuesday afternoon routine looks something like this. I ask my little dog if he wants to get in the car and come to the rest home with me. I don’t ask the big dog, that would be silly, he is very big, but the little one, he is always keen.
We get there and my dog is off like a shot to the rest home door. Inside, he does his rounds at a frantic pace. He says hi to Andrea in her office, scoffs Oscar the cat’s food and then bounds in to the living room where he makes a dramatic entrance.
There is much fussing, Oscar reasserts his authority as he does every week and I settle in for a good old chinwag. I love that everyone is pleased to see me. There is something about time spent just for the sake of spending it that is like a reassuring hand.
And I choose to spend it with this lot because of the feeling I have when I leave. I step back into my life having seen through the sepia lens of their much longer ones. And it feels like a privilege.
Today, talk turns to how kids are brought up these days, with both parents often working. They see that I am always rushing, often leaving them in a mad dash to get the kids from school and I notice them noticing my exhaustion.
The women in this room lived rural, hardworking lives. Their work was their family, the farm and the small community around them. Viv doesn’t understand the way women now work while they are raising their children. ‘‘It’s such a shame that they have to. It is such a precious time and when you get to our age you understand that it’s such a short time.’’
They scoff at the word ‘‘career’’. ‘‘The kids are what were important,’’ Daphne says. The focus of their lives was smaller – bringing up their children, feeding them from what they had. Tending their vegetable gardens wasn’t a hobby, it was a necessity. They helped on the farm when they were needed and Laura says kids were great at being human gates when the cows were going the wrong way.
‘‘They spent a lot of time outside so that I could get on with things in the house.’’
Children and animals, husbands and neighbours, these were who the women looked after, fed and kept an eye on. They were their job and that, back then, was a lot.
‘‘There was no time for much else,’’ Viv says.
Viv shakes her head when I try to explain about the pressure for women now to ‘‘do it all’’, but she never stays serious for long and she giggles as she starts up a story about her husband’s working dog.
‘‘He had it all trained so that he could have a cup of tea, whistle to his dog and off it would go to get the cows in. And the cows weren’t close, they were far into the farm, so he could get his tea in.’’
She almost falls off her chair with giggles when she gets to the bit about the day the dog went the other way.
‘‘He had smelt the female dog next door and he was off. Oh, and my husband was not happy.’’
The dog was disciplined, as were the children. ‘‘We didn’t spoil them. They were loved, but not spoilt.’’
I wonder out loud if there is anything beneficial about the modern way of bringing up kids and there is a shaking of heads. Computers, it is decided, are not a good thing. ‘‘They don’t talk to each other, do they? There is no respect now, no manners,’’ says Una. ‘‘It’s a bit sad, really’’. Everyone goes quiet and I think that, yes, it really is.
But here is the little dog bounding in, after no doubt polishing off Oscar’s cat biscuits, and there is laughter again. Shirley is up and off for a walk and there is cake with sprinkles on top to eat.
It’s time for me to start the mad dash to get the kids and Laura, always the mum, tells me not to rush. Viv tells me I’d better come back and Daphne, lovely Daphne, squeezes my hand. Outside, little dog by my side, I wave in at them and when they wave back, they seem a long way, a world away from where I am now.
Children and animals, husbands and neighbours, these were who the women looked after, fed and kept an eye on. They were their job and that, back then, was a lot.