Let me take you back to 1978.

My son had just been born and I was a teacher at a school for foreign adults learning English. Despite maternity rights being enshrined in law two years earlier, my employers threatened to sack me if I didn’t come back to work after a month off.

Women of my generation and those who came after have walked a long, rocky, thorny road to get the maternity rights parents have today.

Money was tight and I had post-natal depression. My mum, Jena, moved in to care for me and my boy. When he was six months old, we relocated to London, and I got a job at a better paid language school. Jena came with us. She loved being a granny-nanny and family cook too. I never had to worry about pick-up times or whether he was being well looked after, or what we would eat every night.

Many others did what Jena did back then and do so now. Without the unrecognised contribution by generous grandmothers and grandfathers too, low-paid working mums could not go out to work. They would fall out of the job market and need state support.

Looking after my son until he was five gave Jena joy and purpose she said. After she moved into her own flat, she was always available if we needed her for childcare duties.

I was so lucky – and yet, I would argue strongly that grandparents should not be expected to be carers of grandchildren. Does that make me a hypocrite? Yes. But hear me out.

My mum really, really wanted to be my child’s carer. I never thought of it as “her duty”. Nor did she.

The word “duty” chafes. It is a form of soft pressure used by families, communities and nations. Older people are guilt-tripped and made to feel they owe this free service to their children. Parents demanding this show an appalling lack of consideration for the imposed upon. Their choices are denied; their own desires and needs suppressed. What about their plans and dreams for their remaining years?

People are living longer. A good number of them are working beyond the retirement age. Last year, I won the columnist of the year award at the Society of Editors media awards and the words that tumbled out of my mouth on stage were: “Oh my God! Thank you! You know I’m 76 years old!”

Prue Leith, 86, is planning to play more and work less. Last year, we saw Felicity Kendal, 79, playing a key role in Tom Stoppard’s Indian Ink at the Hampstead Theatre; a 65-year-old friend has opened a cake stall in a food market. Why should we/they have to give all that up for the sake of our offspring and theirs?

Gender and class play out here. It is largely women who are expected to be dutiful in families. And it is working class grans who have to step in because their employed daughters and sons can’t afford childcare. What they do is noble and special. But the decisions should be voluntary, not mandatory.

Indiraben, a fellow Ugandan exile, 75, runs a corner shop. She still wakes up at five, and works there till two, when her brother, 69, takes over. After a nap, she goes out to play cards or watch Bollywood DVDs with her friends. In Gujarati she says: “We should help, but if we want. I raised my three children and worked in the shop. I never had my own life. Now I do. And my children must respect that.”

I love my grandchildren and happily step in when arrangements fail or there is an emergency. But I would not sacrifice my career to become a grand-nanny. That’s not selfish. People should be able to make key life decisions without being shamed. My children have never wanted more than what I can give them. That’s how it should be.

I’ve been a headteacher at both private and state schools – these are the key differences

I had never heard about a ‘disability kink’ – until it happened to me

Fergie’s failed business empire exposes the monarchy’s hypocrisy

The palace is burning down – only confronting the truth can end this scandal

© iNews