Guilt or Responsibility

In college, I had a very close friend. Immediately on graduation, she went to the US for her post graduation, married , and settled down there. Her parents here in India were then in their late 50s/early 60s and actively occupied. They thereafter built a new house . Her father started a new profession. After some years, he had a bad accident, and her mother ran frazzled over his long recuperation. They then sold their home, and moved into a senior citizens' apartment block, still continuing to lead active lives. Their other child was also settled in the US and they were very clear that they did not want to be a burden to them. I stayed on here in India. I fixed my work places around where my single mother lived. She relied on me for moving homes, for illnesses, for managing her money, for various, and I, in my late teens and then my twenties, was envious of my friend. I was resentful also of her freedom. Lucky her, I thought. Lucky, lucky her, with such independent parents and little emotional turmoil.
Now both our parents are in their 70s. My mother is independent, happy and settled. I am married, used to responsibility and resent it no longer. I have learnt to appreciate family bonds and cherish them. Last year, my friend's father was diagnosed with a malignant tumour and has been recuperating after surgery and chemotherapy . He's doing well now.
I know the guilt which, inspite of her parents' reassurances, my friend feels. I know, too, that I would have gone through the same, if not worse, burden of guilt.
I am now glad that life let me take the responsibility and earn the pleasures of a mother who is secure, who knows she has her home with us whenever she wants, that she can call and I am there. It's no longer a resentment.
___________________________________________
Part Two: Substitute children. And substitute parents.
Both my mother and mother-in-law live alone, hundreds of kilometers away. It's their choice, as the advantages of running their lives the way they are used to, with their friends and routine, and the thought of uprooting it all to start over again albeit with children, as of now outweighs the advantages of living with family.
Both of them, to our utter thankfulness, have got in some measure, substitute children. When my mother returns from here, for example, she calls her neighbour. "I'm landing at 1 pm, so I'm coming for lunch." My mother-in-law and her neighbour - both of these 'substitute children' are women our age- did the Dasara ceremonies together. The neighbour leaves her kids with my MIL when she's coming home late, and my mother knits sweaters for her 'foster' family. We all win!