Photos: Deeba and her mom Jaq and London and her mom Angela (Deeba's friend)
Take tonight, for example. Hanging out at my friends, Angela and Thor, and enjoying the company of their friend John (sans his beautiful wife Molly who is in texas right now). We got together and went for a long walk, kids and dogs in tow. Conversation was fun and interesting. The walk was perfect! We pooped ourselves out (even Nola the smallest pooch had to take breaks in the grass). Ordered some fantastic chinese cuisine and sat down with beverages in hand.
It was wonderful, dinner seasoned with conversation and spiced up with the mysteries of childhood memories, victories and tragedies, combined. All shared amongst the group with deep and heartfelt compassion. Reminiscing about being daughters and sons and how, now that we are all adults, we are managing the challenges before us with our own children (me excluded as I have none - but I can imagine).
We not only agreed that there is a point when an adult/child draws boundaries for their parents to abide but how, in the process, compassion and forgiveness come into play at the same time. We came to agree that we loved and respected our parents and wished nothing less as our desire for our children. We also agreed that it is a process of give and take when we think of how we were raised, with what type of thought process and how we bring the best of that forward. How we are who we are because of our parents and how we can continue to define ourselves as we separate and rejoin our bonds with those who brought us into this world.
I think that when we are in our early years as adults, we want to find all the problems we have with ourselves and look for what/who caused them. Often, we look to our parents (our familiar and direct source of authority) to blame. Then in our thirties, we realize our own participation and responsibility for who we are and by our forties, we really begin to separate and define ourselves, realizing our power and influence on ourselves and then upon others. By the time we are in our fifties (I think I am the only one in this crowd) we begin to identify so closely with our parents it's almost scary. And yet, our parents don't see this, they just see their child in front of them. They see this adult-like shell and search for the child they remember having held in their arms, or counseled when in trouble.
I think about my parents and how young they were when I came into the world. My mother was 19 and my father 18. They were in the Air Force. Living in Colorado Springs. Young people, not even adults. And so when I was five, my parents were just beginning to realize a sense of who they were...and they divorced. So young. So young. I can't imagine being that young with that much responsibility. And yet, my parents have done very well for themselves, and I think I have too!
At dinner, we all agreed that we loved our parents and that we were who we were because of them and the challenges, support and love set before us. We closed the evening with hugs and goodnights. Mature adults with our inner child-like identities who came out to play and share - gaining a more defined understanding of ourselves, our parents and what it means to be one.
A circle of friends, relaxing, sharing and laughing - happy in the heart and confident about our love for our parents, each other and consequently for ourselves...a promising vision for our children to witness.
