When I wrote the other week about 'the Corrections' and raising kids, I knew I'd get a good amount of feedback from readers and friends, because I think we are all fairly comfortable talking and thinking about what parts of parenting challenge us.
As I've thought more about the parents-eye view, I've become reflective on another aspect of family life. Maybe it's the end of the year, a feeling of wrapping things up, of looking back and looking ahead. It definitely has something to do with writing this blog, which challenges me to use my own experience to connect with other people - many of whom I know, and some I don't.
So, in this spirit, I'd like to talk about what I guess is the flipside, or even just another side of what we get from our parents. 'Corrections' parenting is a way we, as adults, might define ourselves AGAINST something. It's a way some of us might like to show, 'I'm doing it different.' But it's hard to know ourselves fully when we only are certain of what we are not (or what we don't want to be).
Writing this blog has brought into relief for me a way of knowing who I am in relation to where and who I came from. My parents. I am a parent now, but I am also somebodies' kid. In my writing about emotional and mental health, I find myself often thinking not just about what I might do differently than my parents (both in child-rearing and otherwise) I also think about where I might be similar to them.
These parallels and connections with my parents, in some ways, surprise me. My parents separated within 6 months of my graduating from college and moving halfway across the country. Within another 18 months, they'd divorced. This was a tough thing for all my family, but I'd say one part that made it tough for me was that, in many ways, I'd defined myself by my family. To my mind, my family was strong, stable, loving, sturdy. My friends all loved to hang out at my house when we were teenagers. My parents were firm, but kind. The doors to our home were open and there was always a hot meal and a laugh. We did things together, we were affectionate, we didn't often scream and yell. So, the turmoil was sudden and surprising to my brain, which was barely out of adolescence. My folks' divorce, for a time, negated much of the good stuff I thought I'd grown up with. Suddenly, I questioned my own history. Was it a lie? If my memory and experience wasn't true, what in the world was?
I've spent some serious emotional and mental energy working that out over the years.
Here's what I've come to: I like the person I am and... I came from somewhere. I came from my parents, who for a time came together and taught me some good stuff - be responsible for your community, freedom is worth fighting for, be of service when and where you can, listen to music (who doesn't feel better when they listen to "Oldies"?!) From my mom in particular, I inherited values of tradition, being humble, a sense of family history, a sense of and love of the Divine. From my dad I inherited intellectual curiousity, the desire to challenge and be challenged, a sense of rebellion and adventure.
I appreciate this legacy. I love my folks. And though I try really hard not to curse in this blog, one of my mental health mantras is (and I mean this with no irony or angry undertone) "shit happens." In fact, that might be a whole other blog.
The point is, we are made of many parts, influences, and life experience. Some stuff I probably came up with on my own (isn't that very American - to be self-created in many ways?). But, I hope, as we all get ready to probably spend some time with our parents, if they are living, over the holidays, I hope it might be helpful to think about the legacy of their influence. To extend graciousness and love - for them, and by extension for ourselves.
I heard a piece on NPR just after Thanksgiving about decorating the White House for the holidays. Apparently, you can nominate yourself or someone else to have the opportunity to help with this tradition. This year, along with many others, an elderly immigrant man was nominated by his son and they were both chosen for this honor. The older man spoke of his son in his radio interview - "I just pray that he has a good life."
Who could say it better than that - whether you're a parent or a kid?
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