Raising My Parents

I really didn't think I'd have to tell my parents who to talk to, what to do, where to go, when to do things and the like until they were very old and very gray but as I've gotten older, I've been put in a spot to have to do just that. Through every fault of their own, I've had to tell them not to talk to me about their issues and that their spouse is no good for them and they need to talk to a lawyer about it. I've walked them step by step through some of the processes they should take to get a divorce. I've told them to change the locks and the alarm security code and where to go when the utilities are turned off because their irresponsible spouse failed to pay the bills and I've frequently suggested that they complete all of these things in an ASAP manner without  deliberation or delay. 

As many conversations as I've had with them regarding these matters, they still find themselves in the same position and I find myself repeating myself to no avail. I'm frustrated, I'm fed up, I'm infuriated by the fact that in forty-plus years of life, they have been unable to learn the life lessons of which I'm now trying to impart to them. As "the child"--even though I'm well aware that I am an adult--I still feel as though they should feel some level of obligation to teach and support me, not the other way around. 

Most of all, as "the child", I'm heartbroken to see the people I've looked up to acting like children. In spite of what my father or step-father may have assumed, my mother allowed me to form my own opinions about them; she never poisoned my head with negative stories about things they'd done or suggested that they were anything other than the male role models I grew to love and respect. Out of their own sheer carelessness and lack of concern for how I viewed them, they lost my respect. I do love them and I know they love me but my relationship with them has never been this awkward, distant, or strained and it is difficult to hold back tears when thinking about it. Not too many little girls get two dads, let alone one dad who was always there to braid my hair in the morning before taking me to school and another dad who let her say goodnight to him live on the radio.

I was blessed and, in spite of what my mother thought they told me to undermine her authority or skew my opinion of her, they allowed me to see who she really was. Yes, she's run my life with an iron fist and instilled an intense sense of guilt that plagues me every time I try to disagree with her. Yes, she's the voice in my head telling me not to do something I want to do but will probably regret doing. But, oddly enough, I had a revelation about that while on a trip to Springfield last summer which made me accept that fact:

A little girl was swimming near me in the pool when she suddenly popped up out of the water, spun around to face where her mother was sitting on a poolside chair, and said, "yes, mom?" The mother put down her book and replied, "I didn't call you." The little girl laughed and said, "it must have been your voice in my head". I was tempted to tell her that her mother's voice would always be that tiny voice in her head that spoke to her but instead, her mother and I exchanged a knowing glance and a chuckle and kept right on enjoying the hot day.

Raising your parents takes the fun out of being a kid; it alters moments like the one by the pool to the point where you question that voice's authority and omniscience when it speaks. It sabotages that parent-child relationship and leaves "the child" in a place where there is no support system in place on which to rely. Questions swirl: If they rely on me, on whom do I rely? If I fall, who will catch me? If I fail, will there be a home to which I can return? Who do I trust and who do I believe? 

One day, I hope my husband and I will impart a wealth of knowledge to our children and we will be the voices they hear in their heads when we are not around but I do not hope that they will have to raise us the way I have raised my parents; at least until we are no longer able to comprehend things and care for ourselves.  I pray that they look up to us, value our input, respect and love us for as long as we are together on this Earth and that we can give them sound advice, love, and consolation whenever they need it. But, I also pray that we can teach them to think for themselves and make wise decisions of their own without outside influence or suggestion so that one day they can be good parents too.