Hindsight is 20 20

Yesterday one of my friends wrote of her feelings of abandonment regarding her father figure.  I began replying to her blog and realized I was essentially writing a blog of my own in her comment section. Rather than make her site all about me, I cut and paste it into a text document.  I let my thoughts simmer for several hours.

Here's what I started writing:

My dad stayed in my life. I'm not close to either of my parents. My dad had surgery yesterday and I called his cell phone to get a status update. Someone else answered, didn't know me, said I had the wrong number and hung up. I was stunned. In the moment it hit me: one day there will be no parent to call. No pressure to do the obligatory call every 2 wks or so (yeah! check that off my To Do list)  But no parent to call at ever? Sometimes those are the only people who make themselves available to me at a moment's notice. They're my favorite people to kick around and they're always willing to come back to take more. Oh My God.

Yes I  stopped at the realization.  What I instantly saw was that some of the very things I just wrote about parenthood are true of my parents. We may not get along very well. I'm sure I drive them crazy also... But the very idea that they continue to welcome me no matter how awful I treat them at times, proves that they do love me in some of the same ways I love my child. It's entirely twisted. They've done things to me I don't think I'd ever do to my child. But let's face it---no friend or lover is going to take my snotty little attitude or allow me to try and blame them for all of my own shortcomings. I complain about them, manipulate and use them when I'm out of options and yet they continue to want to be around me.   Whether I want to admit this or not- the hard truth is, sometimes they are just the only ones left to take my call. They may be last on my list but they always pick up the phone and seem genuinely happy to hear my voice. 

Man that's a bittersweet pill to swallow. I'm a fiercely independent person. I don't ask for much. It isn't often that I allow them to take care of me in any way. In fact, I pretty much expect them to fail at it. (What can I say?! It's a complicated relationship.)  Something I need to own is that damned old saying "I have not because I ask not." I don't have that soft place to land when I'm falling because I don't ask for help. I'm too proud or afraid and I have little confidence in others. Somehow that all comes down to trust. Well, let's just add that to my massive list of issues.

The point is, in a moment I realized how very immature I still am when it comes to my parents. Perhaps no matter how old, or enlightened I'd like to think I'm becoming, that adult/child paradigm is always present.  Perhaps that is the gift we all pass to our kids (well those of us who stay and are available to our children) the gift of being there whenever, however possible. It's that blank check that says I'm giving my life to you for you forever and you will never realize it or even care until well after I'm gone. If that's the case, I suppose it's time to start being appreciative of the things my folks did well and less resentful of my own gift to my kids.  After all, what good is a gift if it's not given freely?