Current mood: annoyed
It seems that parents are silly creatures. When I was 18, my own were going through a divorce and I had just started dating a guy 6 years my senior. This guy was divorced and had a 4 year old son. My parents, silly creatures that they were, encouraged me to RUN not walk away from this person. They forsaw major disaster in my future. I scoffed.
As it was....the marriage was not the major disaster that they forsaw. Thats not to say that it was Cinderella's happily ever after, either. It was the relationship between two very different people who grew in different directions.
Maybe, just maybe, if I had waited till I was a little more mature and had taken the time to have some adventure and independence(like my parents had wanted me to....huh..novel concept...parents with wisdom, who knew?) things may have worked out differently. I doubt it, but you never know. One thing is certain. The daughter and son I have now would not be the people they are. For that reason, alone, I choose not to regret those early years.
It does surprise me that I apparently did such an awful job at being a mother. hmmmmm. It seems my daughter(20 years old...knows EVERYTHING...about EVERYTHING) doesn't remember any of the good times about her earlier years. She doesn't remember the first four years of her life that were spent in a two bedroom drafty mobile home.
She seems to have blocked out the fact that she and I were constant companions during those years. I even had her half-brother over every weekend, whether their father was there or not. Her father was an over-the-road truck driver. He was home once a week, maybe. Sometimes, every couple of weeks.
She definitely doesn't recall how she and her half-brother would play outside. How he would jump things on his bike and she would clap and laugh. They would go down to the pond and catch frogs. They played with the dogs and made snow forts in the wintertime. So entertained and, yes, even happy. It was a chore just getting them to come in for lunch.
I, of course, was lounging around eating bon bons....riiiiight. No, I was doing laundry and cleaning house and feeling so completely isolated that my soul felt like a black hole. She doesn't remember that part.
But we were such awful parents. I signed her up for tap dance and ballet and her brother played baseball and hockey and if they wanted or needed something, we would try to find a way to make sure they had it. We moved into a real three bedroom house with a basement and a garage when she turned 5.
She started kindergarten. Dad got a local job. He worked straight midnight shift. Constantly. When he wasn't working, he was sleeping. This is the life of a truck driver. I worked days at a bank. We had another son. The children all had warm food..clothing...a roof over their heads, video games and electronic gizmos galore. Christmases, and Halloweens and Thanksgivings. But we were reprobates. We failed as parents.
Every bad thing that has happened in our childrens lives..is traceable to us. We are to blame for everything. Every traffic ticket. Every failing grade in a college class. Every missed opportunity. hmmm. I don't suppose it is possible to take responsibility for your own choices? Your own actions? I don't suppose it is possible that every choice you make has a direct link to the consequences of your life? hmmmm. Nah. That couldn't be possible, could it?
Maybe, just maybe. if we just stopped blaming every one else for the things that are wrong in our lives..and we TOOK SOME ACTION to change things, you know what the absolute worse thing that could happen would be? Things wouldn't get worse. You know what might happen? Our lives would become richer, and maybe...just maybe our dreams would become reality. We might even....perish the thought, be happy.
Huh. What a concept.
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