Tonight, John & I are taking a feast of Chinese
food over to my brother’s place in Norristown.
It has been many moons since Peter & I last saw each other, so it
should be a high-energy evening, seeing lots of pics of his kids &
grandkids, hearing new & old stories.
Thinking about swapping stories got me to pondering our parents. Peter & I have,
at least in the past, had very different attitudes toward Mom & Dad. He has been harsh about their parenting
skills, while I have been more tempered.
He seems more engaged with how their admittedly sometimes ham-fisted
approach affected him, while I tend to cut them a break, knowing their
backstories. True, they left a lot to be
desired as parents – they were no Ozzie & Harriet, let alone Jim &
Margaret Anderson. But considering their
personal histories, I think they did a pretty good job.
Unlike a lot of my friends, the Lockhart kids grew up
hearing my parents’ backstories. Mom
told us Dad’s to help us understand the parenting challenges he faced. We picked up hers from comments
dropped, cautionary tales shared.
Both had happy childhoods, both lost an adored parent
in their teens, both were challenged
(putting it mildly) by the surviving same-sex parent. Both were thrown abruptly from idyllic days
of youth to harsh years of emotional isolation.
Without knowing my parents’ backstories, it would be
easy to dwell on their impossible-to-miss parenting flaws. Knowing them, am amazed at how well they
overcame having NO personal role model of healthy parenting.
Wait a minute – take that back. My Dad had his mother’s relatives, an
open-hearted, open-armed family that radiated so many of the loving qualities
of his dear mama. But they basically
became a treasured memory after she died in his early teens; the long leisurely days in big houses along
Middle River, filled with aunts & uncles & cousins, ended abrubtly with
her death. His taste of healthy
families turned to gall.
My parents were far from perfect. But they did their best, however flawed that
might have been. I am forever grateful
to have known their backstories, to have some context to the whys &
wherefores of the challenges they faced bringing up their children.
To this day, it amazes me to hear people who
are quite an age still bashing their parents for doing this or that. The way I see it, if we lay our problems
& deficiencies at our parents’ door, can’t they do the same? If we blame them, couldn’t they blame their
parents’, and so on & so forth, all the back to the dawn of time?
Dad had NO idea what it was like to be fathered in a
healthy, whole way. Once his mother
died, he was left with a massively flawed parent. Mom had NO idea what it was like to be
mothered in a healthy, whole way. Once
her father died, she was left was an unimaginably damaged & damaging parent.
Here’s my backstory, as I see it – my sibs & I grew
up in a family with two devoted parents.
They loved their family, their church, their community, their country, and especially each other.
From the moment they met, they were dearly & tenderly devoted to each
other. Dad was faithful to Mom & Mom
created a warm family environment for him &
us kids.
To me, my parent's saving grace was that they raised us to think for ourselves, to trust
our intelligence, to stand up for what we think is right.
Throughout my life, my mother was my greatest
nemesis, but also showed me, in so many ways, how to get past that sad reality. Mom couldn’t help being the first – she was
her own greatest nemesis – but it was through love & tender mercies that
she achieved the redeeming part.
Dad & Mom were not perfect, but they did their best with what they
had. One thing I realized fairly
early on was that wonderful married partners did not necessarily make for
wonderful parents, just as a miserably married couple can be great parents. They weren't Ozzie & Harriet, weren't Jim & Margaret - they were human, with all the fallibilities that brings.
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