I have somehow stumbled into a very weird algorythym on my FB page recently featuring estranged parents and estranged adult children (and in-laws) discussing their various issues. I have fed the beast, unfortunately, by clicking on these stories, because the problems piqued my curiosity, so then the algorythym gives me even more of them, and of course, the more you click, the weirder the situations get. It has become obvious that I live a very sheltered life, if some of these stories are true. But reading all this has caused me to think a bit about the generational waves of parents and children through the decades, especially mothers and daughters, what with Mother's Day upcoming, and I have thoughts about it, of course.
My mom is from what has been dubbed the Silent Generation, a moniker which certainly does fit her, in particular. My mother has shared with me that her upbringing was spare. She was born in 1926, into a big family with a small bank balance, and everything was tight, including emotions.
She does not recall ever being told she was loved by either of her parents, although she is quick to tell me that she knew she was, and that she loved her parents and siblings very much. I certainly know this to be true, as I recently observed my 99 year old mother weep a little (a woman who NEVER cries about anything) because she missed the mother who died when she was 23 years old, and she longed to see her once again. That is a very long time to miss your mother, to long for her, to wish you could hear her voice again, and even if you never actually heard the words "I love you," it is clear she knew she was loved to still feel that void 76 years later.She talks about going out to cut a branch off a tree to use as a switch when she misbehaved (something I find hard to believe ever happened, but she says it did, so it must have happened at least once!) She also remembers sitting in her dad's lap, so I know affection was on offer, at least in some way. But children were mostly seen and not heard in those days, and it is a quality that is embedded into her core character from her earliest memories.
She also has wonderful memories of playing outside with her siblings, and tells many stories of the things she did with her sister and brother and the neighbor kids. Her parents never knew what they were up to, and there was a tremendous amount of freedom in those days, as long as your chores were done. There were no scheduled play dates or activities. All of life was creative play, and most of their toys were make believe, so they made do with what they had and got on with it without complaint, because what else were you going to do? One pair of skates for two sisters? Each wear one and hold hands while you work together. One doll? Take turns. Tea parties with the girls down the road? It was all make believe, so anything was on offer. No one was going to give them sympathy for what they didn't have, because everyone was in the same boat, after all.
I think she would probably admit that her parents weren't perfect, that there were things they could have done better, but she knew she was loved, and they did their best. And that was good enough for her.
As a parent, she took those lessons she learned, and she improved upon them to the best of her ability. My brother, an older Baby Boomer, grew up in town with cousins around and lots of friends and television and toys and a lot more material goods than my parents had in their childhoods. And my parents certainly gave out a lot more affection than their parents would have given them.
By the time I came along, (I am a young Boomer, 11 years younger than my brother,) we had moved out to the farm, and there were less people around for me to interact with, but the freedom that came with the wide open spaces suited me, anyway. I got lots of hugs and love, and my mother spent a lot of time with me one on one, in ways her mother would never have had the time to do. We took long walks together, went on little picnics, talked and played and did things together. I didn't have all the material goods that some of the other kids had, but we traveled around the country, and I have the memories of a lifetime which last forever, and are much more valuable to me. Those experiences helped mold me into who I am today - a much more thought filled, well rounded person, and I have her to thank for that.
Most importantly, she has been my sounding board for my entire life. There is no better listener than my mother. She was always on my side, always my cheering section, always behind me. She was honest. If I was wrong, she would tell me, in the nicest way. But her hours of listening over my lifetime have been a lifeline for my sanity, and I am not sure I would be here today without her listening ear.
She was not a perfect mother, either, of course, because no one is. She made improvements on her parents, but there were things she will admit she got wrong. Parenting is a constantly changing sport. But she was good enough for me, and I am always grateful.
As a parent, I took the lessons I learned from my mother (and father,) and I tried to improve upon them to the best of my ability. I remembered what I loved most about each of them, and tried to do those things with my own kids. I valued travel, and I traveled with my kids. I valued time and listening, and I did those things with my kids. I understood the importance of shown affection, and I did that, too. But I also made changes in the way I disciplined, nurtured, led, educated, interacted with, and had fun with my children, trying to be the best parent I could be.
For example, when I was growing up, I always said I would never say, "Because I said so." I hated hearing those words. They always made me mad, because they felt dismissive and arbitrary. So I tried hard not to say them myself to my own kids. It was humbling, the day I heard those words coming out of my own mouth when I was pushed by one too many "WHY?" questions!
My kids did not always get a bath when they were babies. They didn't have clean sheets or towels nearly as often as they probably should have. They had baby food instead of pureed table food, because it was easier, and yes, I did occasionally bribe Adam with a toy car so he would go to daycare without crying. They ate too much junk food. They probably watched too much Barney and Ninja Turtles, and definitely played too many video games. They stayed up too late more often than they should have, and I'm sure there are a lot of other things I got wrong, too. But they are great people, and they married great people, and they are each living their dreams, which is really all you can hope for, so I think we did okay together. If that is the measure of success, I think its a win.
I was not a perfect mother, either, because no one is. But I did the best I could, and I hope I was good enough for them, because that is all I can hope for.
Grace. Each generation giving the generation before it grace. We are so lacking in grace towards each other today, it makes me sad.
I observed an online, public conversation recently between people who know each other in real life over something so incredibly insignificant as to be almost meaningless, and the words that people were using towards each other were so hateful, I could hardly believe it. It was honestly heartbreaking. I cannot believe that people are willing to speak to each other this way publicly, with their whole entire chest puffed out, loud and proud, as if they are making a declaration to be triumphant over, rather than embarrassed about. Is this really who we are now? Or is this who we have always been?
Coming full circle to where I began this piece, I wish for all the estranged parents and children out there who can safely** do so to find their way back to each other again, and to grant each other grace. Because parents and children are pretty important to each other at the end of the day. I am reminded of a Burt Bacharach song from when I was a little kid:
Cherish those who have mothered you, and whom you have mothered, of course. But also celebrate those who have stepped up, stepped in, stepped sideways, or even stepped away for or with you in any way. There are so many ways that people stand in the gap, and we should celebrate all those people, too. I am grateful for all of those who helped to raise me to be the person I am today, and for all those people who were there for my kids when I wasn't at my best. And I am grateful for my daughter's friends who stand in the gap for her, too, so my grandsons have that same foundation of loving adults in their life. Lets all pull together and this next generation will be the best yet.
Wishing all the women in my life a happy Mother's Day. You all deserve a happy day!
**This should really go without saying, but I just know if I don't say something, someone is going to bring it up. So trust me, I understand not all can safely do so. This does not apply to them, sadly.
