One could write about one’s parents from so many angles of introspection. Let me ask you “do you know your parent(s)?” I mean actually know them beyond their outward actions, abbreviated comments and their expressions. For a start, do you know much about their early years? Have you ever had those clarifying, to the gut, conversations where parent-child does not exist in the moment?
I had few such conversations with my parents. I ‘know’ them by virtue of their deeds, their life’s day to day display. I had two gut wrenching moments, during times of taking their last breaths when the deepest truth gasped out. That is it. It has to be enough now.
Do you have children? Do they know the real you? Should you want to give part of that, do it while you can. We are so busy finding ourselves, improving ourselves…on and on the search goes. So tiring, so at times distracting.
Not some passage of a popular song for my mother. She put that on the marker after my father passed away. It sounded sweet at the time. But, in time I have come to understand the depths of that phrase for them. Their early life was grim, harsh and coming out of the Depression and WWII they fiercely ground out a life together. Yes, they did do it their way, without therapy, self help books, incessant self analysis. Oh they had their fractures, their sins, their faults. They shared that with me via their actions, but never really themselves. It is all I have, it will have to do…for me.