Proud to be the son of a mentally retarded mother

I am a 63-year-old professor who has taught medical students for the past 35 years. My mother is mentally retarded. I always had the feeling that I missed my mother’s love for me. I could see glimpses of her love and concern for me during spurts of her longing to see me when I was away from home. I could see her love when she got angry when someone criticised me, even if it was my father. I could see her emotional security in my company. I thought those were enough compensation for the routine tasks that a mother does for her child. My father knew she was mentally retarded, though he learned of this after the marriage. He was not disturbed by the fact. Being a middle class man, for him his conscience became the deciding factor to continue with the marriage and, in the process, father me as his child. He did not encourage friends or relatives to visit or stay with him. The simple reason for his decision was not to subject his wife or his son to ridicule or mockery. He had his elder sister, a widow, stay in the house to take care of the family while he took care of his wife and son. With time, a strong emotional bond developed between him and his wife. That bond became so strong that when my father became physically disabled, she took care of him in her way. What I mean is, in the way that she could understand and help him. That was enough for my father to live. He longed to live longer than his wife so that he could take care of her until her death. He lived a simple social life, restricting his life to his work, home and family. He became a total introvert. He was content with whatever life he had. He was happy to prepare food for his wife and son and do other daily chores of life with a smile and a mission. He was not enamoured by wealth, wine and women. He had all his intoxication in bringing up his son. His wife died before him, and he died afterwards to be buried beside his wife. His life was unique in that he remained unnoticed and unruffled by the ups and downs of life. He had his mission of life completed by being a living example of a dutiful husband and a responsible father. It is his single-minded devotion that made a man out of me and what I am today, as a humble teacher in a medical school (1).

The story of my life is testimony to the fact that a mentally retarded woman may have the right to bear or rear a child provided that she gets emotional and physical support from her husband or a close family member.

The recent ruling of the Supreme Court asserting the right of the mentally retarded woman to decide whether to medically terminate a pregnancy or continue with it, may be a bone of contention (2). In a world full of emotional limitations, society needs to support such women who need our real care and empathy. I am proud of my mentally retarded mother for she gave me a biological belonging and social identity. There are many such women in our society who are given physical shelter. They need physical as well as emotional shelter. When institutions are commissioned to house such women, the concerned authorities must look into whether the place in which these women are housed is safe for them physically and emotionally.