hmmmmmmmmm.......: how do our parents feel?

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

how do our parents feel?

a response to Katy, who on her & Ang's blog wrote:

My cousin Anika and I share a mutual adoration that is unlike any I've experienced with people my own age. She is not my child, but at 20 years my junior, the feelings she instills in me are definitely maternal. Her adoration elates me. It makes me wonder about having a child of my own, how absolutely terrifying that would be yet how exciting. It makes me wonder how my parents felt about me. Surely I elated them when I was small and adored them, right? But how do they feel now? How do parents feel about adult children?


My thoughts on this...I don't know, but I think I make my parents feel sad; I bet that's how most kids make their parents feel. I bet seeing your adult kids is like seeing someone you once had some passionate affair with, and now they've moved on, and while you don't want everything to go back the way it was before, it still makes you sad.

I read somewhere that "having a child is like having your heart get ripped out of your body and go walking around on its own for the rest of your life." Aside from whatever biological imperative there is to keep children safe from harm, I think you naturally want your children to keep loving you as whole-heartedly, as trustingly, as single-mindedly, as they do when they are tiny and hold out their arms to be picked up. Children can give you a brief glimpse of profound connection, that really isn't possible in the same way with another independent adult.*

I reach this conclusion from a comparison between the elated effusions of my friends who have recently become parents, and the varied ways that my parents, my parents' friends, and my friends' parents respond to their adult children.

So in response to the second thing that Katy asked...which was so incredibly poetic...

When I am frustrated with my dad, when I feel he is out of touch with me, when I feel like he doesn't have the right responses to what I have to say, I question whether he even loves me at all. I know this is my own fault. I think I make myself distant because I don't trust him. I feel like I have to compete with him. I approach him defensively. But if I approached a conversation, our whole relationship even, based on the premise that I elate him, would I?


I think that (a) it's never realistic to say that something in a relationship is all your fault. It's a relationship, it takes two to make it whatever it is.

and (b) sometimes it's reasonable not to trust other people. I don't know your dad, only you can say if it's reasonable or right or good here.

and (c) I'm not sure if we can ever elate our parents as we used to. But, I do think it's worth keeping in mind that at some time in the past (which we may not remember) we were whole-heartedly, single-mindedly in love with our parents, and for most of us, that love was reciprocated, and for all of us, that time is irrevocably lost. Maybe that will help us be more gentle with ourselves, and maybe with them too.



*Actually, this is interesting, because it brings me full circle with another thing I've been musing about. Specifically, while parental self-sacrifice and care are possibly a universal ideal, this semi-romantic adoration does not necessarily seem to be universally considered as part of that ideal. I wonder if the isolating, non-community-oriented, nuclear family lifestyle of dominant US culture doesn't contribute to parents becoming overly dependent on their children's dependence for the satisfaction of the adults' need for human connection? With the result that the adult then feels bereft for the rest of their life after the child grows up. Hmm, I'm sure this is someone's doctoral thesis somewhere...

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