[TinyRedLeaf]

Growing up, one is indeed the loneliest number

By Ai Yang
China Daily (July 30)

THE other day I overheard a conversation between two middle-aged mothers: "People like you and me will end up in nursing homes when we grow old — there's no doubt about it. I have only one child and I know there will be too much on his shoulders in the future."

The way she put it, it seemed like she was fine with the idea. But the casual statement sounded to me like a personal accusation, stabbing right into my heart, casting doubt on my ability to care for my own mum-dad-and-me nuclear family.

When I was still a carefree child, oblivious to what I was about to face in the future, I used to express my love for my parents with promises sweeter than honey: "Mummy, when I grow up I'll buy you a fancy house with gardens. And a posh car for you, Dad." Those innocent words never failed to put big smiles on their faces.

As I grew a little bit older, I began to have a better concept of money, but still I would joke about those houses and cars, only now with slightly different words: "I will buy you a big toy house and a big toy car, mum and dad." Yet, they still found it funny.

Now, I am an adult and I have stopped giving out empty promises, for now I realise what it truly means to be the only one, out there on my own, looking after not just myself, but also, more importantly, my parents — with no one else to offer me a helping hand.

Those jokes about houses and cars, they're no longer uttered just for laughs. I know my parents never really expected them from me — all they ever wanted was for me to be happy. But, increasingly, I find myself wondering: Will I be able to provide for my mum and dad when they are old, just as they had provided for me when I was a child?

A gnawing fear grows inside me: I worry that all that I am capable of offering in the future would fail to match everything they had given me over the past 20-something years.

Being born in the 1980s, I was one of the many blessed single children who witnessed huge changes in our lives — changes that were all for the better. Unlike the privileged children of today, I did not grow up having my dad chauffeur me to and from school in an Audi. Nor did I have my own bedroom for sleeping and playing in.

I remember how happy my dad was when he replaced his old bike with his first car, and I remember how I couldn't believe how bright and spacious my own bedroom was when my family moved into a bigger apartment with wooden floors instead of plastic flooring.

All these happened at a time when opportunities seemed everywhere to be found, a time when development seemed only to race forward ever steadily faster. And now, 20 years later, it's my generation's turn to carry on building the future. All of a sudden, I feel stressed. I feel lonely.

I'm not even certain that I have the ability to create and achieve with the same, if not faster, pace something great like my father and mother did.

And, sometimes, I wish I had a brother or sister to share my doubts and fears with. I wish I had a brother or sister to help ensure our parents' well-being. And I wish I had a brother or sister to turn to, and to cry with, when one day our parents leave us.

At a time when singletons like me have just graduated from universities, entered adulthood, found an okay job, and started realising that all the "me-orientated" love, care and attention really do come at a price — that there is really just only me, and no one else but me — the West, curiously enough, seems to be thinking about following China's model of one-child families.

Earlier this month, Time magazine published a long article debating the pros and cons of having just one child, and the author — a mother of one herself — seems to believe that it's not a screwed-up situation having to raise just one child.

Of course, I'm not suggesting that being a single child screwed me up. But I do believe that being an only child will definitely have an impact on a person's childhood — and it will take more than 10 or 20 years to see the significance of that effect.

For, in my case, one is indeed proving to be the loneliest number.