Parents and Children

Longtime TAH readers know I travel a bit. For what it’s worth, I’m traveling now.

And with apologies to a guy named Robert Clark Seger: “When you’re driving umpteen hours, there ain’t nothing much to do” that’s reasonably safe – except to listen to music, either pre-recorded or on the radio. Sightseeing isn’t a particularly good option while driving, and the same is true of most everything else that would take your eyes and attention off of the road.

So yeah – I listen. And yeah, that means I’m about to wander off the ‘res a bit here.

Fair warning: if you’ve lost someone close recently – or are having difficulty dealing with a past loss of someone close – you might want to stop reading and skip the rest of this article. But if you haven’t, IMO you really need to read what follows.

. . .

Parents and their children often butt heads. The relationship can be difficult.

That’s particularly true between same-sex parent and child pairs. Those relationships often become quite strained when the child hits their teenage years.

I don’t really know why that is; I’m no shrink. But I’ll hazard a guess anyway.

I think the reason is evolutionary and hormonal. Humans are territorial animals, and seem to naturally gravitate to a hierarchical leadership model. Accordingly, in a family unit generally there’s room for only one male and one female “top dog”.

A maturing child threatens that structure. The child at some point reaches puberty, then young adulthood – and that change threatens the family’s stability.

Sometimes things get really nasty; other times, not so much. But the conflict is often if not most often there to some degree in every family. The participants almost always work it out, forming adult/near peer relationships in time.

That status holds for years, even decades. But eventually, if you’re “lucky” . . . you’ll outlive your parents. And yes, the “lucky” is in quotation marks in the previous sentence for reasons that should be obvious.

Burying a parent is hard – one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. I can only think of a handful of experiences that IMO might be worse.

But another issue comes later. And it can be kinda hard to deal with.

Because after you’ve buried a parent – or had one advance into dementia to the point they only rarely recognize you, perhaps, and maybe not even then – there are certain things you can’t do any more.

In particular, you can’t really ever tell them how much they mean to you – at least not in person. And I guarantee that after they’re gone you will kick yourself, repeatedly, for not having told them what they mean to you on a regular and recurring basis when they were around to hear you tell them.

. . .

Yeah, a particular song spawned this article. It was one written by a successful singer who had a rather difficult relationship with his father.

The original version was written while the singer’s father was dying a protracted death. The author reportedly sang that early version at his father’s funeral.

It was later recorded, with some changes; it was released over a decade ago. It was awarded multiple Grammy awards.

If you choose to listen, since you now know the tune’s background maybe having a tissue handy might be a good idea. Those who’ve recently lost someone close, or who are having difficulty coming to terms with a past loss, IMO really should pass on listening.

 

 

. . .

Yeah, this article is a bit morose. And no, I’m not trying to be “Downer Dave” or the Thanksgiving equivalent of The Grinch here. But sometimes, an idea is important enough that it needs to be said – and can’t be “sugar coated”.

Because life often has a way of reminding you – one way or another, and often very suddenly – that tomorrow . . . is never guaranteed. For anyone.

. . .

Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. Enjoy the holiday. Use the opportunity to spend time with those who are important to you if you can. Let them know how much they mean to you.

And if one or both of your parents are still alive, make damn sure you tell them how much you love them.

Category: Who knows