Relationships between parents and children are weird.
Mark and I are at an awkward age - at least on Old People Island. Most of our friends are older than us, sometimes by only a few years, sometimes by a decade or two. It is less and less common for people to say, "I have children your age!" anymore, as we age out. But we do find ourselves in the interesting position of being ten years younger than friends of ours and ten years older than their kids.
And not having children of our own, we are sometimes mystified by how parents and children interact. I mean, we were kids once and we had parents. But we only experienced that relationship from one side, not both. So it is weird, being halfway in age between two generations, to see how they interact, as we can converse with both parent and child, separately, on a somewhat peer-to-peer basis.
And it is odd, but many parents - and their children - always seem to act like they are mildly annoyed with the other. And I have experienced this from one side, as my parents got older and I got older, and I realized they were not God-like beings, but just flawed human beings, and they started doing weird stuff like threatening the neighbors with a BB gun. Yes, second childhood is preceded by second adolescence - particularly when there is liquor involved.
It seems that to parents, their children are always something of a disappointment for vague reasons. A friend of mine always sighs when talking about their kids. I asked them, "What, are they Republicans or something?" - because yea, that would probably annoy a parent who was very liberal. But they said, "No, it's not that..." but failed to elaborate why the parent-child relationship was always predicated with a sigh.
Similarly, for the kids, when I talk to them (and by "kids" I mean people in their 30's and 40's with kids of their own) they kind of roll their eyes when talking about Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad are a little goofy, in their eyes. And maybe that is because the "kids" are in the middle of their careers, commuting to work every day, struggling to make each month's mortgage payment and getting their own children off to school. Mom and Dad (Grandma and Grandpa) are just goofing off and playing golf and pickleball! Why can't they be more serious?
And maybe part of this was the 18+ years of growing up, and those cringe-worthy teenage years (with doors a-slamming and "you're not the boss of me!" and so on) which create this history with your immediate relatives - a history that maybe you'd soon forget. And going to visit Mom and Dad brings up those memories for both sides.
I get it that being a parent must be an interesting vibe. You bring home this tiny life that is your responsibility, and it is the most intimate relationship possible. Sure, maybe you and your husband have sex, but these little monsters came out of your vagina, not in it. It doesn't get more intimate than that. Throw in breast feeding and let's face it, there is a thin line between childhood and incest.
I mean, hats off to the Mom's of the world - teaching children how to wipe their ass and all (wipe away from the genital region, not toward it, particularly if you are a girl). Oddly enough, I remember that lesson vividly, even though I was only in the low single-digits in age. I am cursed, it seems, with remembering only the awkward moments in life.
I noted before that over time, the child has to separate themselves from the parent, which is why, during adolescence, kids have to "find themselves" and become more independent. And this can be heartbreaking for parents. My Mother, after a martini or two (which is to say, after 10:00 AM) would get all maudlin and tell me about an incident when I was five years old. Apparently, she used to hold my hand when we crossed the street, and one day, I pulled my hand away and said, "I can do it myself, Mommy!" - and that broke her heart and turned her into a raging alcoholic.
So I get it - it must be heartbreaking to bring these perfect little beings to life, only to see them drift away, apparently ungrateful for all your efforts in raising them. And their values - the values of their generation - seem somewhat scary or even stupid. And since you are no longer "in charge" of their lives (if either parent or child has any common sense) this loss of power is disappointing.
On the flip side, parents can be a pain-in-the-ass as they get older. As I noted in my previous posting, we see older women (mostly women - the men kick the bucket sooner) rattling around in big old houses, worrying their children, who live far away and have lives of their own. "Mom, why don't you move to Boca Del Vista? It's only a ten minute drive from my house, and they provide lifetime care and we could have lunch every Wednesday! I worry about you living all alone in that big old house - it is too much to take care of!"
And the Mom, of course, says, "Fuck off, kiddo - mind your own business! Remember who brought you into this world!"
So yea, there is this tension. And I am not sure there is a way to avoid it - it may be part and parcel of the parent-child relationship, even if you have a "good" relationship with your parents (which, I am learning more as I get older, is a very, very, rare thing).
I take a piss on my parents a lot in this blog (see, e.g., above) but over time, I have met people or seen scenarios where, well, it makes me realize I had a pretty decent childhood. It seems particularly in recent times, that children are tossed back and forth between parents of broken homes - treated as possessions more than family members. Parents who seek custody not out of love or bonding, but as an act of revenge against an ex-spouse. What will those kids be like when they grow up? Read the news on any given day - you'll have the answer.
So maybe there is an answer - just don't sweat it. Don't try to be like my late Sister, who wanted to "understand her relationship with Mother" - just accept it for what it is, and go on and live the best life you can. And similarly, for parents, to just accept their kids for what they are - living in a world far different from the one we grew up in - and move on.
But do me one favor. When I ask about your grown adult children, don't immediately respond with a sigh. Because that makes me wonder what the hell they did to be so disappointing to you.
Somebody, somewhere, has to be pleased with how their kids turned out - right? Please?
