OrganiSed Chaos

Just recently I had family here to stay for 10 days. During that time, we had cause to have a reasonably deep discussion about a few things and one of my daughters made a comment that resonated with me. It rang so very true, and thus has been running around my head ever since.

The comment she made was this: “I’ve been reading your blog off and on Mum, and it makes me realise something. I don’t really know you at all do I?”

My response was that, no, none of them really knew me as a person. They know me as Mum, sure, but as a person? Not at all.

That gave me pause, and raised a question for me.

How well do we REALLY know our family? I’m talking about immediate family here, or more specifically, our parents. If you had to do a multiple choice quiz on your parents, how well do you think you’d do?

I can tell you my girls would not do well {that by the way, is not a critcism, just a fact, for those of you who see this}

They know little of the person who is not their mother. Yes, they know the general things. What I do and don’t eat and drink, what type of clothes I like, jewellery, perfume, even what colour I like to have my hair, but there is much more to a person than those things.

I find it odd that it’s not until we’re parents ourself that we see our parents as people, and not just Mum and Dad. I never saw my parents as people, and it wasn’t until I was well into my 20’s that I even considered they were more than that. With my Mum I never really had the chance because she was gone when I was 13, but my Dad? Well, that’s another story. To a degree, I have an excuse though.

After he remarried, any time I had with him was severley limited by the wicked witch of the west. God save us I should want to talk to him, or spend time with him because that would take away from her of course!

Then I moved out when I was 16 and din’t speak to him for close to 10 years anyway. By the time I got around to talking to him again, the time to be close had been and gone you know? There was far too much water under the bridge, and I find that particularly sad.

If you were posed questions about your parents, would you know the answers with any accuracy? Honestly, I mean. Not just yeah! Course I do! I know my Mum and Dad.

Do you know:

Where they met?
Got married?
How much in love were they?
Where did they first live?
What sacrifices did they make for you to have a halfway decent life?
Their nickname for each other?
Their special place?
How they feel about world events?
How they felt about becoming parents for the very first time?
What attracted them to the other?
What was their very first job?
Where did they go on their first date?

I’m here to tell you, I wouldn’t have a snowballs hope in hell of answering most of those, and many other questions.

I repeat, sad.

Don’t do what I did and decide it’s too late. I’m not suggesting you invade their privacy, don’t get me wrong, but I’m pretty sure if you show an interest, the reaction may be surprising.

Get to know them now if you don’t already. I can assure you, I’m more than willing to answer any questions my girls have.