There is a picture of me with an umbrella when I was about four years old that I always thought was cute. Last night I came across it and thought that my four year old son might appreciate this picture of his "mommy" at around the same age he is now. Well, yet again I was reminded of how sentimentality is so personal and individual when later I found the framed picture discarded on the floor. Since this memory of mine didn't seem to be super impressive to his four year old brain, it told me that this picture is probably most dear to me, and only me. It obviously wasn't super-special to my parents since it ended-up at my home at some point, and I'm doubting that my husband finds much joy in the daily viewing of his wife's baby pictures. So, to my side of the bedroom it went. I figure if I'm the only one that really enjoys looking at myself as a small child, then I'll gaze on it each morning when I wake. :)
This topic is one of sensitivity for me as I ponder what I should do with the forgotten memories of my family members that have passed-on, along with those still with us. As one full of emotion and sentiment, it hurts deep inside to discard memories that can never be replaced. But why? If my father didn't feel the need to keep his high school or college yearbooks, then why is it that I have a hard time letting them go? What to do with the guest book from my great aunt's wedding, a woman that I never knew?
As my generation has matured, my siblings and I have found ourselves in possession of photos and items from our childhood that were once being treasured by our parents and grandparents, but seem to have lost their value as we have aged. Is there an expiration date on how long your "cute" items remain as such? Why is it now that we are parents ourselves that we are being returned what seem to be the majority of any items reminding our own parents that we once were youngsters ourselves? Is this all a great cycle, making room for the grandchildren's things as now there are new baby pictures to display?
I once spent a few very long nights up in the wee hours, doing my best to put together photo albums for various family members as Christmas gifts. It occurred to my sister and me while working on this project that it was easier to organize photos during this time in our lives than it would have been years earlier. Now you knew not to include photos of this family member in that one's album, and vice versa. Divorce seems to have that one benefit...parents still together might view one photo album as a small gift for the both of them. Divorced parents mean two houses, two albums, two gifts. After putting such devoted efforts into this project, expectations for the recipients' reactions were high. Needless to say, when one recipient reacted with less than favorable emotion at seeing the "old pictures," it hurt.
Why is it I constantly feel like Jo from Little Women? You would think a young woman of my age and status in life would not still feel so tied to the past, much less so negatively. I've married, weathered considerable troubles within my marriage, birthed two beautiful children, and now stand poised for their school years. Why, why, why am I still troubled by what seem like unbreakable bonds to still lingering questions and injuries of the past???
I'm still struggling, very obviously, with how to respectfully honor my elders and their memories, and also with what I do with my own. Now that my baby pictures are no longer of any joy to my parents, do I just keep them to gaze upon for myself? Will one day down the road my children have any interest in such items, or will they show the same disinterest as when they were toddlers? Has our digital world eliminated the value of "old pictures?"
I welcome comments, especially to this post. I know I'm not alone in my sentimental world, yet this particular topic makes me feel very much so. Here I remain, growing up.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Building a Mystery
Anyone that's read my previous entries knows that I have struggled with my paternal relationship and feelings surrounding my father for many years. Today I wish to explore that part of my growing up a little deeper as I find myself again attempting to rebuild broken bonds with my father and his wife.
There is a song that I hear on the radio by The Zac Brown Band called "Highway 20 Ride." This song really caught my attention due to the subject matter and perspective of the estranged father. I've spent many selfish years as a daughter looking for perfection in a man that isn't perfect, when I am obviously not a perfect daughter or mother. This song is written for a son by his father, the father desperately trying to explain all of the heartache that he feels being away from his son.
The listener is able to gain from this song that the father cares so much for his son that he makes a long drive every other weekend in order to have just a small amount of time with his beloved child. It's been a song that I hear at the most needed of times, almost like the radio DJ knows that it's time to play this one for Jenn. I heard it when my friend lost her daughter as I was on the way south to be with the family during a very tragic time. On arrival at my destination, a long time family friend reminded me again of what a wonderful and devoted father I have.
Every time this family friend has commended my father for his job raising myself and my siblings, I have a bitter feeling inside. Sure, the trips and activities seemed great from the outside perspective, but what about everything else? What about the support that I needed so many times that just didn't seem to be there? Now, at 30, it's starting to make sense to me.
No, my father isn't perfect now. No, he wasn't perfect during my formative childhood years. I have set my expectations too high, though, and have not appreciated what I do have in a father. A voice mail message that I can't bring myself to delete that says, "I love you so much." Something I know I've taken for granted all of these years. "Of course my father loves me," I've often thought to myself. What I know now, however, is that he doesn't have to say so. He says this because he needs to.
He didn't have to pick us up for the weekend visits, nor did he have to take us places. As children, we expect so much. My four year old has developed a habit of asking me daily what "prize" I have brought him home. What he doesn't understand at his age (yet) is that not every day brings a prize. What I didn't understand as a child was that not every father goes to the trouble and expense to take his children to the beach, the mountains, the amusement parks...all of those wonderful things that we did growing up and just expected.
As my father's health is so obviously in decline, I find myself regretting the relationship never being more developed than it is today. Will I know the answers to questions posed by my children about their grandfather? We have already lost my father-in-law, also a man that remains a mystery to me in so many ways. I want for my sons to know their grandfather in this life while we still have him here with us, and I want for them to remember him fondly when he is gone.
I feel so strongly that my father not only loves me and the rest of the family, but also would love to know us better. I would like to know him better. How? That is the simple yet troubling question that I find myself facing at this point in life. Visits are costly with our current fuel prices, and phone conversations are difficult with modern phone service being no better than what we all know it to be. So...letters? Maybe that's the answer. I'm not sure how well the responses could be written with the paralyzing stroke leaving its mark on my father since last year, but it's worth a shot. :)
There is a song that I hear on the radio by The Zac Brown Band called "Highway 20 Ride." This song really caught my attention due to the subject matter and perspective of the estranged father. I've spent many selfish years as a daughter looking for perfection in a man that isn't perfect, when I am obviously not a perfect daughter or mother. This song is written for a son by his father, the father desperately trying to explain all of the heartache that he feels being away from his son.
The listener is able to gain from this song that the father cares so much for his son that he makes a long drive every other weekend in order to have just a small amount of time with his beloved child. It's been a song that I hear at the most needed of times, almost like the radio DJ knows that it's time to play this one for Jenn. I heard it when my friend lost her daughter as I was on the way south to be with the family during a very tragic time. On arrival at my destination, a long time family friend reminded me again of what a wonderful and devoted father I have.
Every time this family friend has commended my father for his job raising myself and my siblings, I have a bitter feeling inside. Sure, the trips and activities seemed great from the outside perspective, but what about everything else? What about the support that I needed so many times that just didn't seem to be there? Now, at 30, it's starting to make sense to me.
No, my father isn't perfect now. No, he wasn't perfect during my formative childhood years. I have set my expectations too high, though, and have not appreciated what I do have in a father. A voice mail message that I can't bring myself to delete that says, "I love you so much." Something I know I've taken for granted all of these years. "Of course my father loves me," I've often thought to myself. What I know now, however, is that he doesn't have to say so. He says this because he needs to.
He didn't have to pick us up for the weekend visits, nor did he have to take us places. As children, we expect so much. My four year old has developed a habit of asking me daily what "prize" I have brought him home. What he doesn't understand at his age (yet) is that not every day brings a prize. What I didn't understand as a child was that not every father goes to the trouble and expense to take his children to the beach, the mountains, the amusement parks...all of those wonderful things that we did growing up and just expected.
As my father's health is so obviously in decline, I find myself regretting the relationship never being more developed than it is today. Will I know the answers to questions posed by my children about their grandfather? We have already lost my father-in-law, also a man that remains a mystery to me in so many ways. I want for my sons to know their grandfather in this life while we still have him here with us, and I want for them to remember him fondly when he is gone.
I feel so strongly that my father not only loves me and the rest of the family, but also would love to know us better. I would like to know him better. How? That is the simple yet troubling question that I find myself facing at this point in life. Visits are costly with our current fuel prices, and phone conversations are difficult with modern phone service being no better than what we all know it to be. So...letters? Maybe that's the answer. I'm not sure how well the responses could be written with the paralyzing stroke leaving its mark on my father since last year, but it's worth a shot. :)
Monday, September 19, 2011
Savor the Flavor
A wise friend once told me to remember things as they were at that moment in time as things were sure to change before long. This friend is officially a family member on paper, but will always remain my "best friend" in my heart. He was referring to relationships between siblings and significant others at the time, but as I mature I realize that his simple comment applies to all relationships and situations in life.
My mother raised us in a spontaneous house. My father was absent for the majority of our childhood. Those two facts were ingrained into us as children. Mom was quick to make any situation fun, and Dad was someone not to count on calling, showing up, or generally supporting much at all. Don't get me wrong. Mom's spontaneity did not make her "the fun parent," nor did Dad's absence make him "the bad parent." They both had their pros and cons, and were dramatically different in so many ways.
I find myself now frustrated with the role that step-parents have filled for our parents, and how it changed the people we knew as Mom and Dad. Mom's spontaneous nature is still there, but is often tempered with, "Well, I would, but Step-father doesn't want to." Dad's absence seems to be less now by his own desire, and more so with Step-mother's lack of desire for contact and interaction.
It's been a very confusing life this way. After two decades of "training," it can be very hard to re-learn your parents and their "new" ways. I have personally resorted to a withdrawal of contact and affection with my parents. I know this is probably not the best thing for any of us, but I've found it to be less painful. It's easier not to plan last minute events and trips with Mother, only to be disappointed with the "plan's" disapproval by Step-father. It's also easier to speak minimally by phone with Father than to visit, only to be put-off by Step-mother's attitude and comments.
Very often I feel like when one family didn't "work out," then our respective parents sought comfort in "new families." The feeling left behind with the children (even as adults) is one of discarded love. I know this is not true. I know my parents still love us all, there is no doubt in my mind on that fact. Facts and feelings are so very different, however, and both are very difficult to "train."
The facts are ugly, and the feelings even uglier. There's the facts that are "safe." Those that are allowed to be shared with extended family, and those that are dark secrets in the closet of life's house. Surrounding all facts are the deep emotions tied to it all, ranging from pure joy to utter despair.
I am currently reading a fictional book that was working on fully gaining my attention. Then there was a line that stopped me on the page like a hammer to my brain. "We need parents when we're old too." I'm too long from school to remember citation rules, so I'll do my best. This line came from Michael Ondaatje's "Anil's Ghost." The writer is a favorite of mine since high school when "The English Patient" hit the screen. His writing is poetic and dream-like to me, and each time I allow myself to become entangled in his novels I find myself the better for the time spent.
What I thought would be a "time killing" read since it was the only book to be found following our move has become something that I yearn to spend more time with. What a profound and yet simple sentence. It reminded me of the day that my friend asked me to take it all in before it all went away.
And it did go away. There were break-ups, moves, marriages, births, deaths, fights, hugs, cries...a little bit of everything that life throws at us all in our day-to-day journeys. I will always remember the time that I considered to be so happy in my early adulthood with a bittersweet taste. It was the first time that I realized that family is what you make of it.
I write with the collaboration of my dear sister and grandmother. I welcome comments, suggestions for new topics, questions...whatever comes to mind. This is a labor of love for me as I do my best to "get it all out." I feel that it's a sometimes messy and tedious process, but I shall return again. :)
My mother raised us in a spontaneous house. My father was absent for the majority of our childhood. Those two facts were ingrained into us as children. Mom was quick to make any situation fun, and Dad was someone not to count on calling, showing up, or generally supporting much at all. Don't get me wrong. Mom's spontaneity did not make her "the fun parent," nor did Dad's absence make him "the bad parent." They both had their pros and cons, and were dramatically different in so many ways.
I find myself now frustrated with the role that step-parents have filled for our parents, and how it changed the people we knew as Mom and Dad. Mom's spontaneous nature is still there, but is often tempered with, "Well, I would, but Step-father doesn't want to." Dad's absence seems to be less now by his own desire, and more so with Step-mother's lack of desire for contact and interaction.
It's been a very confusing life this way. After two decades of "training," it can be very hard to re-learn your parents and their "new" ways. I have personally resorted to a withdrawal of contact and affection with my parents. I know this is probably not the best thing for any of us, but I've found it to be less painful. It's easier not to plan last minute events and trips with Mother, only to be disappointed with the "plan's" disapproval by Step-father. It's also easier to speak minimally by phone with Father than to visit, only to be put-off by Step-mother's attitude and comments.
Very often I feel like when one family didn't "work out," then our respective parents sought comfort in "new families." The feeling left behind with the children (even as adults) is one of discarded love. I know this is not true. I know my parents still love us all, there is no doubt in my mind on that fact. Facts and feelings are so very different, however, and both are very difficult to "train."
The facts are ugly, and the feelings even uglier. There's the facts that are "safe." Those that are allowed to be shared with extended family, and those that are dark secrets in the closet of life's house. Surrounding all facts are the deep emotions tied to it all, ranging from pure joy to utter despair.
I am currently reading a fictional book that was working on fully gaining my attention. Then there was a line that stopped me on the page like a hammer to my brain. "We need parents when we're old too." I'm too long from school to remember citation rules, so I'll do my best. This line came from Michael Ondaatje's "Anil's Ghost." The writer is a favorite of mine since high school when "The English Patient" hit the screen. His writing is poetic and dream-like to me, and each time I allow myself to become entangled in his novels I find myself the better for the time spent.
What I thought would be a "time killing" read since it was the only book to be found following our move has become something that I yearn to spend more time with. What a profound and yet simple sentence. It reminded me of the day that my friend asked me to take it all in before it all went away.
And it did go away. There were break-ups, moves, marriages, births, deaths, fights, hugs, cries...a little bit of everything that life throws at us all in our day-to-day journeys. I will always remember the time that I considered to be so happy in my early adulthood with a bittersweet taste. It was the first time that I realized that family is what you make of it.
I write with the collaboration of my dear sister and grandmother. I welcome comments, suggestions for new topics, questions...whatever comes to mind. This is a labor of love for me as I do my best to "get it all out." I feel that it's a sometimes messy and tedious process, but I shall return again. :)
Step by Step
I remember this phrase meaning two things for me as a youngster -- New Kids on the Block, and the slightly annoying sitcom that ran just about the same time as the song. Ironically they had nothing to do with one another, yet both came into public view during a decade when it seemed more and more common to hear the term "step-[fill-in-the-blank]."
During my school years, it became less and less common for my classmates to come from homes with two parents. As a single-parent home dweller myself, it was comforting for me to find friendships with other children from "broken" homes. Somehow it seemed to hurt deep inside when friends of mine had both parents at home. It was like a reminder of what I did not have when visiting these friends, and led to feelings of jealousy that were hard to control.
My first experience with a "step" relative was not a parent, but instead was a grandparent. After my grandparents ended their 35 year marriage, we were charting new territory. It was already "normal" to us kids not to have married parents, but what now that our grandparents were no longer married? What would become of our relationships with each grandparent? Would we see them more often? less often? Would it be "the same" as before? Many of these answers were not long delayed in presenting themselves, and in many different forms.
First came the remarriage of our grandparents. As children, we obviously did not know the half of what led to the divorce of our grandparents. This also applied to their new relationships -- all we knew was that there were new people in our lives, and basically we were to treat them the same as we were brought up to treat all adults. Just when we had adjusted fairly well to having step-grandparents, then the step-parents came.
I am thankful that step-grandparents came first in our lives. It was almost a training course for step-parents. I am extremely thankful that step-parents were not present in our lives as school children. The effect of the remarriage of your parents on the child is hard to describe. After no less than 4 step-parents in the past 10 years, to say it's been a roller coaster would be putting it mildly.
My husband and I married in 2002. By that time, my mother was on marriage number three...and expecting child number four. I remember well the feelings that rushed in as I was given the news of my new sibling to arrive that winter. My first thought was that my mother would be "showing" at our wedding. Oh, well...if there's one thing you can't control, it's others and their actions, right?
My father's second marriage would come the same summer as my own. Mother's third divorce took place in 2008, but only after being filed a third time. In 2009, my mother married a fourth time, and during my second separation from my husband in three years. I attended the service with my then two year old son, and fought back tears as I thought back to my own wedding a few short (and long) years before.
It's hard for me to accept folks blaming their parents for their adult problems, and therefore I restrain myself from doing this to my family (or myself). I am my own person, and I alone am responsible for my actions. As I think back on my three (so far) step-fathers and my current step-mother, I can't help but think about the before (and after) times.
Life seems to have been segmented for me. There's the period of my parent's marriage, then their separation, and then their divorce. After that follows my mother's second marriage, her second divorce, third marriage, then my marriage. Then comes the birth of my third sibling (and second brother). Some years later my brother's father and my mother finally divorced after years of turmoil (and a miscarriage). There was a period of calm while Mother was again a single mother, and then came marriage number four.
I love and appreciate my current step-father. He has proven himself different from the rest, even from my own father. I am pained with knowledge of marital turmoil between my mother and step-father. I find myself dreading what seems to fall into the pattern of my mother's marrying habits. Now that things aren't "just so" between Mother and Step-father, I fear that, yet again, I'll be watching yet another divorce play out like a soap opera.
I find myself very often frustrated with both of my parents. There's the strained relationship with Father that was only complicated by his marriage to Step-mother and later his declining health. I fear that his death will come before the bonds are fully restored, and I feel resentment towards Step-mother for her role in the fractured family. I often resent Mother for introducing this revolving door of men into our lives. I still resent not being invited to three of four re-marriages of our parents. Having attended the most recent marriage ceremony, I can't help but feel more connected to not only the man, but also to the relationship with my step-father.
I also find myself feeling guilty for my own role in fractured familial relationships. I was not true to my husband in word or deed. I spoke ill of him for years, and was not honest with him about my feelings. I feel now that I was only acting as taught by example, yet I do not blame either parent for my actions. I know deep down that both of my parents (and grandparents, for that matter) have always acted in my best interest, or as best they were able while dealing with their own "demons."
I have written this post in two efforts as it is such a difficult topic for me to discuss. I feel that my rambling is a sign of more writing to come. Please stay tuned for more "growing up," and as always comments are welcomed!!!
During my school years, it became less and less common for my classmates to come from homes with two parents. As a single-parent home dweller myself, it was comforting for me to find friendships with other children from "broken" homes. Somehow it seemed to hurt deep inside when friends of mine had both parents at home. It was like a reminder of what I did not have when visiting these friends, and led to feelings of jealousy that were hard to control.
My first experience with a "step" relative was not a parent, but instead was a grandparent. After my grandparents ended their 35 year marriage, we were charting new territory. It was already "normal" to us kids not to have married parents, but what now that our grandparents were no longer married? What would become of our relationships with each grandparent? Would we see them more often? less often? Would it be "the same" as before? Many of these answers were not long delayed in presenting themselves, and in many different forms.
First came the remarriage of our grandparents. As children, we obviously did not know the half of what led to the divorce of our grandparents. This also applied to their new relationships -- all we knew was that there were new people in our lives, and basically we were to treat them the same as we were brought up to treat all adults. Just when we had adjusted fairly well to having step-grandparents, then the step-parents came.
I am thankful that step-grandparents came first in our lives. It was almost a training course for step-parents. I am extremely thankful that step-parents were not present in our lives as school children. The effect of the remarriage of your parents on the child is hard to describe. After no less than 4 step-parents in the past 10 years, to say it's been a roller coaster would be putting it mildly.
My husband and I married in 2002. By that time, my mother was on marriage number three...and expecting child number four. I remember well the feelings that rushed in as I was given the news of my new sibling to arrive that winter. My first thought was that my mother would be "showing" at our wedding. Oh, well...if there's one thing you can't control, it's others and their actions, right?
My father's second marriage would come the same summer as my own. Mother's third divorce took place in 2008, but only after being filed a third time. In 2009, my mother married a fourth time, and during my second separation from my husband in three years. I attended the service with my then two year old son, and fought back tears as I thought back to my own wedding a few short (and long) years before.
It's hard for me to accept folks blaming their parents for their adult problems, and therefore I restrain myself from doing this to my family (or myself). I am my own person, and I alone am responsible for my actions. As I think back on my three (so far) step-fathers and my current step-mother, I can't help but think about the before (and after) times.
Life seems to have been segmented for me. There's the period of my parent's marriage, then their separation, and then their divorce. After that follows my mother's second marriage, her second divorce, third marriage, then my marriage. Then comes the birth of my third sibling (and second brother). Some years later my brother's father and my mother finally divorced after years of turmoil (and a miscarriage). There was a period of calm while Mother was again a single mother, and then came marriage number four.
I love and appreciate my current step-father. He has proven himself different from the rest, even from my own father. I am pained with knowledge of marital turmoil between my mother and step-father. I find myself dreading what seems to fall into the pattern of my mother's marrying habits. Now that things aren't "just so" between Mother and Step-father, I fear that, yet again, I'll be watching yet another divorce play out like a soap opera.
I find myself very often frustrated with both of my parents. There's the strained relationship with Father that was only complicated by his marriage to Step-mother and later his declining health. I fear that his death will come before the bonds are fully restored, and I feel resentment towards Step-mother for her role in the fractured family. I often resent Mother for introducing this revolving door of men into our lives. I still resent not being invited to three of four re-marriages of our parents. Having attended the most recent marriage ceremony, I can't help but feel more connected to not only the man, but also to the relationship with my step-father.
I also find myself feeling guilty for my own role in fractured familial relationships. I was not true to my husband in word or deed. I spoke ill of him for years, and was not honest with him about my feelings. I feel now that I was only acting as taught by example, yet I do not blame either parent for my actions. I know deep down that both of my parents (and grandparents, for that matter) have always acted in my best interest, or as best they were able while dealing with their own "demons."
I have written this post in two efforts as it is such a difficult topic for me to discuss. I feel that my rambling is a sign of more writing to come. Please stay tuned for more "growing up," and as always comments are welcomed!!!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Divorce, until death does it linger...
Divorce is a painful experience, and for so many more people than one would initially think about. I think of divorce like suicide in some ways. It’s said that when a person commits suicide, it’s really a very selfish act. While the depressed individual might feel that they are ending their pain, in reality they are hurting so many in this world that it’s impossible to measure the effects.
When couples chose to divorce, it’s almost like committing suicide to their marriage. Now, don’t get me wrong. I do not think that all marriages are healthy, and I do believe that divorce is unfortunately necessary for couples that just can’t make it work. The effects of divorce, however, are often not considered. When couples are understandably wrapped-up in their personal issues with one another, it’s not natural for them to think of how many people would be touched should they end their marriage.
It does seem common for couples considering divorce to think of their children should they be present in the marriage. I’ve talked to some couples in my years that have told me that they chose to stay together for their children. I’ve talked to others that told me that the opposite seemed best for their family, especially in cases where violence would result from arguments.
I myself have come from a “broken” home with divorced parents, and also came to the brink of divorce with my husband twice in our marriage. Thankfully, my family remains intact. It is our successful reconciliation that gives me hope and strength each day, and encourages me to share our experiences with others.
The separation in my marriage affected our young son, and more than I could see at the time. We now feel that we are trying some days to reverse the damage done during that brief period of his young life. Since I personally feel responsible for inflicting this confusion on my son, I work very hard to “correct” the damage done with as much patience as I have in my bones each day.
The story of my marriage is unusual, complicated, and yet happy all at the same time. My husband and I have been through both Heaven and Hell together, and are thankful each day to still have one another for the strength and comfort that only a spouse can offer. We are thankful to now have two beautiful children, both of whom we are raising in a loving, supportive environment as best we are able.
When my parents divorced, I know they discussed the effect on their three children. I don’t think they realized that these actions taken almost twenty years ago would still be affecting their children today, even as adults. I praise my parents for their best efforts, and would never judge a parent knowing that there is more factors than one can understand in the parent to child relationship.
I find myself today feeling appreciation for the “pause” that was taken by my parents following their divorce. From the time that my parents separated and later divorced until I graduated high school, neither my siblings nor I really knew of any “adult” relationships maintained by our parents. For their choices to remain single parents during our formative childhood years, I thank them.
Both of my parents have since remarried. My father is still married to his second wife of nine years. My mother is currently on husband number four, and without much promise of success this time, either. Just like the ripple effect felt by divorce, remarriage of your parents seems to have the same type of effects. There are so many “new” issues present when there is a stepparent introduced into a family, even when the children are grown.
Visits become more complicated as everyone’s needs are considered. Plans are difficult to complete as the feelings of the newer family members come into play, when before their joining the family it was business as usual. With my mother’s marital roller coaster over the last ten years, there have been three husbands introduced into our family. Two, of course, are no longer considered “family members” following the divorces. Ultimately, it feels wasteful of time and emotion to even bother getting to know someone that’s just going to be a memory before too long.
My mother’s most recent husband has been different. Understandably, none of us were eager to learn much about this man when it seemed like he would just be another spoke on the wheel. After he and my mother married, however, we started to grow closer to this new stepfather.
Now as an adult daughter, I find myself in a very awkward position in life. Mother’s fourth marriage is on the rocks, and we stand to lose yet another paternal influence in our lives. There is a part of your troubled soul that grows weary from the back and forth, up and down that comes along with marriages in turmoil.
After living in a dysfunctional home as a child, I vowed to “change” as a newly married young woman. Before I knew it, I was repeating many of the same mistakes I feel my mother has a pattern and history of committing as a wife and mother. While I find incredible satisfaction in learning from my mistakes and turning my life around, I now find myself watching my mother’s relationship crumble…without a single word or deed available from me to “save” them.
I have a long time family friend that laments the loss of my childhood. Being the eldest of three with parents divorcing before we hit middle school, I don’t think it’s any secret that I played a big role in raising my siblings. When I left home, I rebelled as many young people do. At the brink of success or failure in my life, I met my husband. He took the reigns from me in some ways, and helped to raise my siblings and me. I think that my husband came into our lives at a time when we strongly needed a strong male figure to fill the void left by our then absent father.
I find myself now, at 30, raising two children with my husband…and still feeling like I’m raising my parents. With a mother that seems to think like a teenager, and a father that sadly has partied himself into poor health…it’s all one can do to stop the cycle, and do better next time.
I welcome comments, suggestions, and input…whatever! I share my story and feelings so that others living through similar situations might find some comfort. If you are reading this blog and feel alone in your journey, take heart! You are not alone, and there are fellow travelers that will help you when you are wounded. We are all on a journey in this life. To close, let me share a quote that I recently saw on a sign – How you spend your days, is how you spend your life! I pray that this day will be spent in love, happiness, and safety for you and yours.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Who's the Parent?
In my life, I've been many things. What I seem to have perfected is being first! I've been the eldest of three, then after many years I was the eldest of four at 21. I was the first to marry of the four. I was the first to have a child. Some of these firsts were chosen for me, and some I have chosen.
I was the first to be in charge of two younger siblings after my parents split when we were all still in elementary school. This time period in our lives robbed me of a traditional childhood. While it would be easy to blame my parents for this, it still won't allow for me to get those years back. What I chose to do as an adult is to ensure that my children have a rich and fulfilling childhood, so that in a healthy way I can re-experience some of the things that I missed as a child.
What I'm most proud of choosing in my life is being the first of my siblings chose to work out my marriage. To endure marital separation is something that cannot be explained to anyone that has never experienced this for themselves. I do not pass judgment on other couples, especially after my own experience with my husband. I learned many things during our separation that needed to be learned. I had some experiences during that time that have changed my outlook on not only my marriage, but myself.
As I prepare to celebrate my ninth anniversary with my husband tomorrow, I find myself very often attempting to share what I've learned in my 30 years with others. Whether that be marital advice, or just advice on life in general -- I feel strongly driven to help others through my shared knowledge and experiences. This drive applies to all, young and old. As a troubled teen I like to counsel those dealing with similar issues. As a wife and mother, I freely share advice with anyone looking for help with their relationship or child rearing questions.
What I find myself faced with much today is having a parent requesting my advice on a constant basis. This is no different in some ways from a total stranger asking for help. In many ways, however, this is very different. There came a time in my life when I felt "smarter" than my parents. This confidence in my younger years made me quick to offer my parents advice, even when it wasn't solicited.
Now I find myself consistently offering the same advice again and again to my parent, only to watch the same mistakes being made over and over like a bad dream. I feel a reverse sense of disappointment when I do my best to offer my parent the tools I think are helpful to their situation. As the child in this relationship, it is very frustrating to witness poor decisions and habits repeated daily by your parent. I feel as if my child is floundering...yet I'm the child.
This type of exchange between myself and my parent has inspired me to write. I think the world that we live in today is much more open to exposing the skeletons in your closet. While I would never want for my parents to feel any sense of disrespect by me or shame from my remarks, I do wish to express how I feel in a productive way. For any child or adult child of a parent still "growing up," I intend this blog to be a source of comfort and strength. Comments are encouraged! Thank you for reading today. :)
I was the first to be in charge of two younger siblings after my parents split when we were all still in elementary school. This time period in our lives robbed me of a traditional childhood. While it would be easy to blame my parents for this, it still won't allow for me to get those years back. What I chose to do as an adult is to ensure that my children have a rich and fulfilling childhood, so that in a healthy way I can re-experience some of the things that I missed as a child.
What I'm most proud of choosing in my life is being the first of my siblings chose to work out my marriage. To endure marital separation is something that cannot be explained to anyone that has never experienced this for themselves. I do not pass judgment on other couples, especially after my own experience with my husband. I learned many things during our separation that needed to be learned. I had some experiences during that time that have changed my outlook on not only my marriage, but myself.
As I prepare to celebrate my ninth anniversary with my husband tomorrow, I find myself very often attempting to share what I've learned in my 30 years with others. Whether that be marital advice, or just advice on life in general -- I feel strongly driven to help others through my shared knowledge and experiences. This drive applies to all, young and old. As a troubled teen I like to counsel those dealing with similar issues. As a wife and mother, I freely share advice with anyone looking for help with their relationship or child rearing questions.
What I find myself faced with much today is having a parent requesting my advice on a constant basis. This is no different in some ways from a total stranger asking for help. In many ways, however, this is very different. There came a time in my life when I felt "smarter" than my parents. This confidence in my younger years made me quick to offer my parents advice, even when it wasn't solicited.
Now I find myself consistently offering the same advice again and again to my parent, only to watch the same mistakes being made over and over like a bad dream. I feel a reverse sense of disappointment when I do my best to offer my parent the tools I think are helpful to their situation. As the child in this relationship, it is very frustrating to witness poor decisions and habits repeated daily by your parent. I feel as if my child is floundering...yet I'm the child.
This type of exchange between myself and my parent has inspired me to write. I think the world that we live in today is much more open to exposing the skeletons in your closet. While I would never want for my parents to feel any sense of disrespect by me or shame from my remarks, I do wish to express how I feel in a productive way. For any child or adult child of a parent still "growing up," I intend this blog to be a source of comfort and strength. Comments are encouraged! Thank you for reading today. :)
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
An Introduction
As the eldest of three children, I learned at a very early age the responsibility that comes with being in this position in your family. To add to this responsibility, my parents split when I was seven. My younger sister was 6, and our youngest brother (at the time) was 4. Recently, many different events have brought back memories and stories from childhood. Some are happy times, but unfortunately many are not. It's a sad fact when your most prominent memories of your "childhood" seem to blur out the times that were more enjoyable.
I know I had good times as a child. I know this from my own memory, from stories shared by others, and from family pictures. The hard part, it seems, is remembering the good before the bad. As a young mother of two children, I along with my husband are doing our best to fill our children's memories with as many "good" times as possible. We view every day as another opportunity to "right the wrongs" of our parents.
I don't intend for this blog to be a "parent bashing fest." One of the things that bothers me most about many talk shows over the last 20 years has been the pattern of broken adults blaming their broken parents for their adult problems. As an adult still struggling to find my way every day, I hope to share my experiences through this blog in a helpful manner. I know I can't be the only young woman that is still growing up every day, even after 30. I know I can't be the only young woman still struggling with parenting her parents.
Feel free to join me in this adventure. After years of discussing writing a book with family members, this outlet seems to fit better with our modern lifestyle. Comments are welcomed and encouraged.
I know I had good times as a child. I know this from my own memory, from stories shared by others, and from family pictures. The hard part, it seems, is remembering the good before the bad. As a young mother of two children, I along with my husband are doing our best to fill our children's memories with as many "good" times as possible. We view every day as another opportunity to "right the wrongs" of our parents.
I don't intend for this blog to be a "parent bashing fest." One of the things that bothers me most about many talk shows over the last 20 years has been the pattern of broken adults blaming their broken parents for their adult problems. As an adult still struggling to find my way every day, I hope to share my experiences through this blog in a helpful manner. I know I can't be the only young woman that is still growing up every day, even after 30. I know I can't be the only young woman still struggling with parenting her parents.
Feel free to join me in this adventure. After years of discussing writing a book with family members, this outlet seems to fit better with our modern lifestyle. Comments are welcomed and encouraged.
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