parents' life

It was them who brought me up, fed me, encouraged me to study hard for university, for the life in cities.
Now, I am quite far away from them. They do NOT understand my life anymore but they care about me. I don't get used to the life they are living anymore, but I try to help to improve their living standard.
Many cheques arrived, they just deposited them and claiming to save for me for a house, in the future.
I want them to spend some to make their life more comfortable, but they said they were fine with it, now; they are very happy for what they have.

When I am home with them, their home, I hardly do anything. Not because I don't want to help, but because I couldn't help much. I sat there, listen to their lives, listen to their chores and stories with neighbours and people around them. Sometimes, we talk about stories happened before in the small village where I was born. They are happy, I am happy.
Most of the time, I only sat there, around the stove, staring at the slim but bright light through the gap, recalling the old stories and colorless scenes.

Before, they told me what to do. Now, I give advices to them on how to deal with people and things. They are glad to hear them more than to adopt them.

They are more used to their own life.