Family Matters

Talking to Kristin the other day. It was one of those ‘family’ discussions. You know the type. Where you finally have to break down and share with your child what lousy people you were in your youth? Open up the vault? Tell them family anecdotes? Secrets? Medical conditions? Convictions? Overdue Library books? Faustian bargains? Greek tragedies? Real estate deals between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea?

Nobody likes those. Most people feel uneasy around them. Avoid them, even. OK. Everybody avoids them. Lies about them. Self justifies themselves about them… which is kind of circular. We flatter ourselves that we don’t want to trouble our children with horror stories of ancient familiar failings, as if by hiding them we can make them go away. Nothing to see here. No problems. Just another Ozzie and Harriet family from the fifties. Tune in. I think the Twilight Zone is starting soon. Until the next generation makes the same damn mistakes that we did. And we watch, unbelieving. Defeated. Hopeless. All we can do is try to catch them. Like our elders did for us. Call me old fashioned. I believe that we should study history to learn about the past not to create a prettier one.

OK. I made mistakes and I bumbled my way along parenthood... Childhood… Adulthood… Life… I did things I’m not pleased with. Some that I cringe at... Some that I am proud of… Many that I would take back… None that I can… Though I’m afraid I’d just go and do them all again, anyway, even if I could take them back… I'd just go and give them all away again, anyway. Some that I find embarrassing… Or stupid… Some criminal... Forget I said that last one. Some…

I tried my best. I like to think that I am a better person today. Though I am not sure who I should contact for verification of that assertion.

Kristin said, “That’s OK. Overall I think you were adequate.”

Aww. My little girl thinks that I was ‘adequate.’ Aww.