What If is a question never answered, and so Why Do We Ask the Question? |
Parents hold the balance of power where children are concerned which in itself is not exactly earth shattering news. We all know children follow the template until they are of an age to start questioning, a time when parents learn to pray, dreading that phone call or knock on the door. Its hard to let go and accept your role has changed to that of customer service/administration officer. Its even harder when they call to say they have stuffed up and want to know what to do. The temptation to say ‘I told you so’ or to start yelling is almost unbearable particularly when you know its the last thing they need to hear. Parenthood I have learnt is a lesson in self control, a role where your own concerns and emotions are secondary to those of your kids. Most parents want to see their children happy whether by design or happy accident, and we as parents get marked out of ten once we get them through their teenage/young adulthood years without major calamity. I cant help but think of my mother’s attitude all those years ago when I was going through my dramas at that age. There was a sense of futility on my part, never good enough to meet expectations, looking to my parents for sustenance of self esteem only to find criticism. School was a living hell, every day greeted with dread, knowing I didn't fit the mould. My peers were sophisticated, their knowledge of all things normal lay beyond my comprehension making me more determined to appear to be a person of self worth. Assumptions based on perception annoy me and was surprised by my own culpability. Not so long ago, my best friend from school confessed how isolated she had felt explaining the struggle she had in trying to fit in. I had always been in awe of her intelligence and apparent self confidence, and felt uncomfortable when I realised I had got it wrong. We are all prone to making assumptions about people we know and in particular of those to whom we are closest. Such is the case in my own family. We are very good at telling stories of our childhood, laughing at the games we played, times shared and of course our many and varied misdemeanors. What has me a little non plussed is how childhood follies are used as a yard stick of the adult today. Some how forty or more years of marriage, raising a family, making a living disappear into those few years of youth when you were but a shadow of your family and parents. But its not just in my own family this occurs, it happens in every family and I wonder why it is? I am thinking in particular of a brother and sister, one compliant the other not, the standing joke was that the son was the product of the milkman, which of course was not the case but was used as an illustration of the differences. What impressed me was how the girl’s childhood misdemeanours were consistently used as a term of reference to her character until well into adulthood. |