A hard ? for some. Tell me about your parents, please.

[martha]

For some this may be more difficult than discussing religious beliefs, or non-beliefs. For some reason it has come to my mind this day. So let me begin.
I was born of two people who were drawn together by the spirit of alcohol, and who would ultimately be drawn apart by that same spirit. I come from a broken home. I am fifty years old now. My father raised me from the age of five.
My father was born in Nitshill, Scotland and came to America when he was only 13 yrs. old. He wasn't educated and he once confided to me that he BS'd his way through every job he ever had. He said that he would go for a job and tell the person that of course he knew how to do, such and such a job. Then he would go out with the boys after work and hoist a few and get to know them. Apparently he would ingraciate himself to them and they would take him under their wings and teach him the job that he was supposed to know. I often thought that those men had done much the same thing just to get the job, so they all had a certain understanding for my dad's circumstances. In those days most were immigrants from all over the world. They understood each other, without words.
My dad died when I was only in my very early twenties, so I never got to really know him. The little I do remember is that he was a great singer with a lovely tenor voice. We used to drive down the road and I would be in the back seat. I would lean on the back of his seat and see his eyes in the rearview mirror. We would sing harmony to a Bobby Vinton song, " Roses are Red, My Love". God we sounded great together. He worked tunnel construction, was a truck driver and a chef. He was also heavily involved in the unions in thier early days and held a man in his arms as he died from being beaten by an opposing union. Apparently he was also an artist. When I had to do a project for school, I was very upset because I couldn't really draw. Lo and behold, when I awoke the next morning, I found a beautiful miracle in the kitchen. My dad had drawn in great detail the great spiral domes that were in Russia. I can't think of the name of them at the moment. I had to laugh with him after I closed my mouth. I said, " Daddy, no one is going to believe that I drew this." I took it to school anyway and it received high praise, but they knew it wasn't really mine. I loved him for the effort. Sure wish I had kept it.
My dad taught me about compassion. I remember him telling me one time that he was going to bring home a friend for Thanksgiving dinner. He explained to me that this fellow was all alone in the world. He said that this fellow wouldn't be dressed in fine clothes and that perhaps he wouldn't even smell too good. He kept telling me that this guy was very alone and that we should share our Thanksgiving bounty with this fellow, lest he be alone on such a big family hoilday. So I said that I would gladly welcome this man and try to make him feel happy.The sight of this man was more of a reality then I could have ever imagined. We welcomed him and shared dinner with him. Because of my father's compassion, I learned how to love.
My dad was not perfect, he was an alcoholic and when he was in his cups he could be very verbally abusive to me. I forgave him anyway.
My mom was always distant from me. They broke up when I was about four years old. At first she had me. I remember her boyfriend used to force me to eat liver and spinach. I hated them both. I remember once that he made me eat liver and spinach at one meal. I got so violently sick to my stomach that he never made me eat it again. I told my mom once when I was in my thirties that I thought of her as a friend, not a mother. I wasn't trying to be mean, it was just the reality of the situation. I had been gone from her since I was about five. I left Toledo Ohio and moved to New Jersey with my dad. There was never that mother, daughter connection. She always said that she loved me. In her old age, she wanted me to come back to Ohio to live with her. I just couldn't do it. We kept in touch, until her death last year, January 10th, when she succumbed to lung cancer. My father had died on Christmas Eve many years ago.
I thank my parents for giving me life. I thank them for loving me. Now that I am older, I can understand the difficulties of relationships in a different light. The anger towards them for splitting up, in my youth has dissappeared. I have been through a few rocky relationships myself. I know better now.

There is so much more that I could say about them, but I just wanted to give you all a platform to start with.Please, my friends, if it isn't too hard, share with us your parent's influence in your lives, good or bad. In this place we can talk openly without fear of reprisals. There is no judgement here. I suggest that no matter how much we who read these things want to comment, there should be no critique on anyones sharing. I hope you all agree. I leave the floor to you.

Martha

 

[ayani]

hello, Martha-

thank you for sharing! you describe your father beautifully. it sounds like your dad and my dad had alot in common.

my dad was a kind of rough guy, too, but a truly neat person. he had his dark sides- he could be angry and abusive, but he was also a good father. he tried, and he did love his kids. he gave us a deep appreciation for art (he was also an artist) and for books and gardening. he was kind of a paradox- he had a very gentle, loving side and a very angry, explosive side, too. he died suddenly when i was ten, and left me with sadly mixed feelings about him. as i've grown, i've been able to see him not just as a father but as a person, and now appreciate him more than i ever could have as a little kid.

my mom is still alive. she's got the patience of a saint when it comes to her kids, and has never stopped trying to help and reach out to us (me and my brother and sister have dealt with an eclectic variety of mental health problems over the years, and her support and help has been amazing). she's a hard-working woman who's made tons of sacrifices for her kids, and been through alot. she's lost her husband, her beloved sister, and a daughter over the years and she's always asked so little for herself. unfortunately, we tend to clash interests alot. her worrying about my emotional health has led to her keeping both of us on a pretty short teather, and she's often unhappy with my attempts to make it on my own. i can't say i'm thrilled with myself, either, but i'm trying to make a life for myself outside of the home, which is a challange. i love my mom alot. i do wish we were able to communicate better, and that i'd been more careful with her feelings in the past. i haven't been a great kid to either of my parents, and i figure i'll always be trying to make up for lost time.

 

[linwood]

I never met my father.

My mother was young when she ran away and joined the circus.
No sh*t she ran off with the Christiani show and worked the single trap and web.
She had me when she was 29, I was her 3rd child but I never knew my siblings as they had a different father and were given up for adoption by my grandmother when my mom left them in her care.
Things were done differently back then.

She was an alchoholic who finally got control of her addiction when I was in my late teens-twenties.

She had two men in her life that I knew of and she left the good one to move to Florida where she met the abusive one a couple of years later.
She ultimately divorced him but for some weird reason I am sure he was her one true love.
Love is a messed up thing.
They never really left each other and she cared for him for 6 years during his terminal throat cancer until he died.
She was a bartender and like your father Martha would bring these poor hopeless drunks home with her during the holidays.

This infuriated my grandmother who lived with us and she complained to no end.
When I asked my mom why she brought these people home at a time that was meant for family she said it was exactly because these were times meant for families.
She said these people had no families and that these times were the hardest for them so she wanted them to know they were loved and had worth.
She never failed to help anyone with anything she could.
"What comes around goes around." is the one lesson I had drilled into my head since I was old enough to understand language.
It doesn`t quite mesh with my wordview these days but I still think it`s an excellent outlook.

I idolized my mother for my entire life while she lived.
Since her death in 2001 I`ve given her alot of thought and realise she wasn`t as perfect as I had thought.
However, I have never met a person who was as genuine for good or bad.
She had the power to forgive or at least live with things I would have killed over, but she wasn`t a sucker.
She was just very strong and refused to allow anyone to adversely affect her for long.
She never failed at anything she set out to do, not that I can remember anyway.

I`d give almost anything to be able to sit across from her at that kitchen table and laugh over the dumbest of things with her until we were both in tears like we used to do.
I miss that laugh.

She taught me the best way to live.
With no regrets.

 

[Snowbear]

At the time and even now if I think about it, I didn't much care for how I was treated by my parents. Then a former close friend confided that his mother tried to drown him when he was 8 years old. So now I've got nothing to complain about in that department.

 

[martha]

I just remembered something else about me and my dad. We used to sit in the kitchen and do one of two things. We would look down at the most horrible linoleum in the world, I mean it was truly ugly. It was made up of a series of very short brush strokes of different colors. My dad would say , " Hey, do you see that dog?" Perhaps I would see a building, or a face in another area and I would piont it out to him. He taught me to find the hidden beauty in the mundane. To this day I still see shapes in the oddest places.

The other thing is we used to plan bank robberies. Yes, that's right bank robberies, from start to finish. We would have a great laugh at our good fortune at not being caught and finally becoming filthy rich! I often wondered where that came from. I found a particularly nasty letter my mother had written many many years ago in which she wrote, " They should have pushed the button on you back in 19......? I don't remember what year it was. Dad once said he could never go back to Scotland the legal way. Oh great! Now you are gone dad, and I can't find out what she meant! Just who the heck were you dad? What did you do? Why were you so very good at robbing banks in our little fantasies? Hmmmm I wonder.

 

[linwood]

Oh great! Now you are gone dad, and I can't find out what she meant! Just who the heck were you dad? What did you do?

A bit of advice for the younger folks here.

Even if you feel it`s of little interest to you now find out all you can about your family and parents you can while they`re here.

Ask lots of questions.

A time will come when you sorely wished you had.

 

[martha]

Amen to that Linwood, amen to that!

 

[robtex]

Those are touching stories. Both my parents are still alive. I remember they never got along even when I was less than 5 years old. When I was 8 they were seperated and when I was 10 they were divorced. My father was crushed. My parents were sorta backwards as it turned out in philosophy. My father wanted to grow up and start a family and my mother wasn't too into the family thing.

My father was born in a very religious family. He was brought up as a Chrsitian and will likely die as one. He didn't push religion on my brother or I but took us to a methodist church for about 1-2 years. He is very calculated but lacking any artistic talents. He taught my bro and I about finance and business and oddly I think I learned as much about cash flow analysis from him as I did in college as a business major. Mainly cause everything he showed was very practial in application. He has been a number cruncher since he was about 25ish.

He was crushed from the divorce and my mother, who had a mean streak towards my father, did small things to create barriors between he and my bro and I. I didn't really get to know him until I was in college. At that time I found out he had dated for 15 years after the divorce trying to find one woman after another to settle down with and start a family. He found a mexian woman who had immigrated and they married about a year after he met her in 1992, 15 years after his divorce. He had two more kids and in a poetic way got a 2nd chance at raising the family he always wanted to have. His wife a Jehovah's witness converted him and much of their family activities are centered around their church.

My father is very big into autism and spends much of his free time doing good for his community. His one artistic talent is photography a gift that he passed on to me. He is incompetent at learning spanish and after 12 years of marriage can't speak a lick of it. He reads mystery books and true crime books but has no interest in crimminology.

My mother was more a free spirt. She is a hedonist at heart and just kinda did what pleased her. I don't know as much about her because she didn't really enjoy the baby sitting that wentw with child rearing so I never saw her much. I had the strangest eating habits as a kid with no supervision.

She is from Germany and immigrated here at the age of 15. She worked her way through high school and than looked for a man to settle down with. I think her intentions were to be a housewife at first, but I am not certain. I remember she use to sing to me in German when I was really little and she bought my brother and I pets two times..once two dogs once two cats. She read to me when I was 5-7 mostly the grimm fairy tales in English and she put my clothes out for me until I was in the 4th grade. I still have the grimm book she read to me in my library down the hall.

When I went to college I was in less and less contact with her. After college my bro and I moved into an apt together and she came to visit twice. Than she just sorta stopped. I called her on her birthday and other days but she never picked up or answered the phone. The last time I saw her was in 1994 at Christmas. She left and never called or returned calls. I know which city she lives in but couldn't tell you a thing about her life today. She never had much of a connection to her parents either or her family in Germany so I am guessing she isn't much into the familiy thing.

 

[angellous_evangellous]

The other thing is we used to plan bank robberies.

I do this too. All of the robbery movies give me great ideas....:sarcastic

 

[Melody]

Well, I hesitate to post because my experience is/was the opposite of most of you. I'm the oldest of 5 children and, while my mother did divorce my biological father when I was 3, she remarried by the time I was 5. I never missed my biological father since my new dad (step was never used in our home) loved us as if we (my brother and I) were his own.

My dad worked in the steel mill and every summer they shut down for 6 weeks (no pay) so they would pile all of us into the car with the tent and cooler and we'd travel around the country for 6 weeks. We never did the touristy stuff because it cost money, but we did get to see all the natural wonders of our country, fish to our hearts content with bamboo polls (to this day my preferred fishing rod) and muck around in lakes, rivers and streams. I have so many good memories of my growing up years...most of them with my parents and sibings. Oh, life wasn't perfect...what life is....but I was happy.

I don't think there's been a time in my almost 50 years when I haven't talked to my parents on a weekly...if not daily (now that cell phones have free long distance) basis and I have continued that practice with my own children who have now moved away from home.

 

[michel]

PART QUOTE: Linwood] "A bit of advice for the younger folks here.

Even if you feel it`s of little interest to you now find out all you can about your family and parents you can while they`re here" [QUOTE.


Amen to that! There are so many things i would have liked to have been able to tell my parents, but now it is too late; well, unless I do talk to them regularly, as I believe I do.

Dad was a divorced Roman Catholic in 1947; he was a very 'hard' man (in that he was hard on himself - not others). It was only when I was in my twenties that I found out about the first marriage, and therefore the divorce; I had always imagined that my parents simply married late. I also found out at that time that I had a half sister, but was dissuaded by Dad from ever bringing up the subject infront of Mum, out of respect.

I therefore never mentioned my sister until after my Mother's death, and my Father was very ill; since then, I have seen my sister twice - she will not come to England - most likely because that's where her Dad -in her own words 'Dumped at the age of twelve with a promise that he would keep in touch'.

He never did so, and although he was given the opportunity, through his parents, to see his daughter as a mother, and to see his grandchildren, he chose not to. I sincerely believe that it was not out of malice, but as a 'mental' defence system. he had locked the past away in a tin box marked 'do not open'.

Mum was a fantastic lady - her familly were fabulously wealthy until the war, when they lost everything; but that changed nothing. She struggled with Parkinson's and Cancer for years, never complaining once.

The only vaguely Father/son 'bonding' my Father and I ever shared was one day, after Mum had died, and I went over to his flat to fix something for him; he looked at me all quisically, and asked "Why do you do all these jobs for me ?" to which I replied "Because you are my Father, and I want to".

A few weeks later he did something for me (can't remember what) - I looked at him and asked why ? to which he said, "Because I wanted to, because you are my son."

 

[Lookingformeaning]

Well, lets see here. My parents are products of the hippie/pyschadelic era. They both graduated from high school in 1975 and were married in 1976. They are very laid back people and have really loving personalities. Plus they put up with me, so I guess they would have to be pretty laid back. lol

 

[Rex]

Father-

Never really had much interaction with him when I was 0-18. He worked alot. Up at 3 a.m. and back home for 6 p.m. and in bed by 8 p.m. . I now realize he did this for the family but we always had more than enough and at times I regret he wasn't there as much.

Mother-

Oblivious to everything because my father gave her everything yet let her do nothing. Sweetest kindest lady you will ever meet, and she has a deep love for people and animals. She has always been at home and never worked a day in her life past 18.


Now they are both different from when I grew up in home, when is enjoyable. And I can only hope to bridge the gap we have.

 

[Sunstone]

My father was an artist and business owner, my mother was an executive.

 

[Melody]

Well, lets see here. My parents are products of the hippie/pyschadelic era. They both graduated from high school in 1975 and were married in 1976. They are very laid back people and have really loving personalities. Plus they put up with me, so I guess they would have to be pretty laid back. lol

Oh man.....I am so feeling old. I graduated in 1975.

 

[johnnys4life]

My mom was born in the country and grew up feeding cows. She hated it, but she had a horse named Thunder whom she adored, she bought him with her own money from her own job as a teenager. She also loved her dad a lot but I don't think she ever really will forgive him for selling thunder without even asking her, and keeping the money.

She didn't get along with her mother. She felt she was too controlling. At 18 my mom was working and going to nursing school, and my grandma made her pay rent to stay at home. She yelled a lot. My mom would sneak off and say she was staying with a girl friend. She was really having a relationship with her friend's father. He was blind and in his late 30s, and she said she loved him for being able to get past his disability, for being so optimistic. He gave her an STD, he was cheating on her.

She moved out into an apartment building where my father was living at the time. She posted a sign on her door that said "be nice to me, it's my 21st birthday". My dad bought her a card and took her out for a drink. They began seeing each other, and when he proposed he said, "I don't love you, but I think in time I may learn to". He was still hung up on a woman who was in the army... and fearing she might be pregnant, my mom accepted and married him.

She became pregnant shortly after, with my older brother, and while she was pregnant her father was dying. She tells me she remembers praying for the Lord to take her baby instead. I hate that. Still my brother is her favorite, always was. When he was 6 months old, I was concieved. She stayed home with us for a while but resented it. She thought my dad worked too much and felt like he still didn't love her (though he tells me he really did). They fought a lot. Once during a fight my dad said he only married her because she was ugly and he thought no one else would try to take her away from him. She has never forgotten this. To prove him wrong, she began having affairs. I remember that. I remember playing on her bed with her and one man.

The men started calling the house. My dad asked questions. Finally she admitted it, haughtily, threw it in his face. He punched her in the face. She screamed abuse and divorced him. To this day she swears he was abusive, even though that's the only time he ever hit her and she admits it.

I was 2. I don't remember my parents being togethor. I don't remember it at all, and can't imagine it. My mother is very sentimental, emotional, manipulative, insecure, controlling, angry, resentful, romantic, self-centered, a hard worker, a dreamer, naive, and when she loves she loves with all her might. When she hates it is like hell.

 

[Lycan]

My sperm donor - I have 2 memories of my SD, he never tried to get in touch with me after he divorced my mom, but his mother called me once a year or so. I had heard from her that he had a heart attack and thought I should probably meet him at least once before he dies so I contacted him. He came to see me right after I got married (19 yoa). It was ackward and all he did was talk about how he used to be a millionaire and gave it all to his ex-wife in another divorce (he was full of sh*t). That was also about the time that I found out that I have 4 half sisters and 1 half brother that I have never met (to this day).
He left and I didn't hear from him again until about 2 years later. He made of a bunch of excuses as to why he never returned my calls and that was it. I haven't heard from him since....

My Mom -
My mom is the greatest mom in the world . As far back as I can remember there has been nothing I could not talk to her about. We have (and always had) a very open "best friends" relationship.

 

[johnnys4life]

My dad grew up very poor. Other kids called his family "dumpster divers". He was a momma's boy with 1 brother and 1 sister. He was a sickly child. He had scarlet fever and almost died, and his mom would take care of him, bringing him soup and comics and books in bed, worried to death over him. He was spoiled by her. He also was reckless, like his comic book heros, he thought he could fly. He tested out his theory by jumping off the roof. He injured his spine and began having epileptic siezures.

His father was insane, literally. He would go out every night with a gun, swearing he heard thieves and was going to kill them. One night he went out and never came back. My grandmother heard the shot, and ran out to see her husband dead in the back yard. My dad was 13. He became a mormon as a teenager, and devout, never touched coffee even. At one point the church prayed for him, to heal his epilepsy, and it worked. He stopped having seizures and to this day he does not have them.

In his 20s he was still a little boy at heart, and his big dream was to have a comic book store. When I was very little his dream came true and he opened RDK's, named for him, my brother, and me. At one point he stayed home with us while my mother worked as a nurse, we went to movies togethor, I remember. He ate a lot of junk food and gained weight.

When my parents divorced, he was heartbroken and gained even more weight, so much he began to have health problems. He lived in the shabbiest house, with the shabbiest dog, and was so lonely that he even went to prostitutes for company.

He tried to call and visit us but my mother refused him. He saw us once, on my brother's birthday. I remember I didn't recognize him, but he wept and hugged us and begged our forgiveness. I was 4, I felt embarrassed. He brought us too many presents. I used to hit them and yell at them, especially the one toy that had "I love you" written on it. I used to pretend it was my dad and punch it. but sometimes I hugged it too.

In '85 he obtained custody of my brother and I after a year in foster care in which my mother refused to indicate that he existed. When he got the call, he said at first he was so scared to hear a policeman on the phone asking if he was our father, he thought we'd died. He was delighted to see us again, but when he came we didn't know him. We were disappointed, he was so fat and smelled bad.

For the next 10 years he raised us, worked too much, and didn't date anyone. He had a temper, and bad memory, and never seemed to know what we wanted. He liked to watch movies and read science fiction. He worked as a salesman. He took us to mormon church. He never spoke bad about my mother, only her boyfriends and husbands... sometimes he would call me her name, and I think, he couldn't love anyone else that way again, and I feel sorry for him.

He stopped going when he met his current girlfriend. She moved in with her 2 horrible sons and it was then he seemed to stop caring about anything. Luckily I moved out a year later. We are good friends now, he is a sensible, level-headed, a bit apathetic, greedy at times, temperamental, bookish, pushes himself too hard, is a bit domineering, but overall has a great capacity for love and a good sense of humor, and we get along.

 

[Jaymes]

My dad.. I don't really see him a lot. I've seen more of him lately, but it won't make up for not seeing him much at all when I was a kid. He was a workaholic. He was obsessed with making money. His dad was the same way. He'd leave very early in the morning and not get back until after I went to bed. It got our new house paid off in less than 8 years, but at the cost of not seeing much of myself or my younger sister.

He never graduated college. He went for three years, and dropped out his fourth year. I'm very determined to not do anything stupid like that. I know he's not stupid.. he's a very smart man. He's just like I am, and can do stupid things.

He works in the refridgeration department of some plant, and has to work around no few dangerous chemicals. If there was ever a leak, he could easily die. It worries me, but he chose the work because it pays well. His choice.

My mom works a lot, as well. But that's more because she misses work a lot and has to stay late to get everything done. My sister and myself both have health problems, so she's taking us to the doctor a lot.

She and I are too alike to get along while we're living together.

I got what little artistic talent I have from her. She used to be big on drawing and painting. She gave that up when she went into accounting, though.

I love them both, but they can be very upsetting and frustrating. So can I.

 

[jewscout]

You know i always looked up to my old man...i mean what american boy doesn't right? I used to think that one day i could be just like him, regardless of what happened between my mother and him. but then when i turned 12 he just up and disappeared w/o even a goodbye...he was gone for a little more than 5 years and during that time never once tried to contact us...when we had him forcibly extridited back to VA we found out that he had remarried to a woman w/ 3 kids, going to school on the government money and basically living on welfare because he was "disabled" (=fat). He had also "found jesus" which was a load of crap because he is still the same slimey-self-centered jackalope he's always been. Never once has he ever tried to apologize for what he did or anything...my sister even gave him the chance to come back into her life and he just "didn't have the time". I haven't spoken to him in a decade.

My mother is a hard working and hard headed woman. She loves us w/o a doubt but she can be very stubborn to a fault as well as overprotective, but i guess she had to be when we were growing up...it's just that now that we are on our own it's hard for her to turn that off i supose. But i love her regardless..she's a trip and everyone loves her (well not everyone but that's a whole other story i'm not getting into)