How Perceptions of Our Parents Change

Sometimes I wonder how my children see me. They probably see me as a crazed lunatic. I mean they are teenagers. I'm sure they didn't always see me the way they do now, and I'm sure they won't see me the same way ten years from now.

I can't really remember much of how I saw my parents when I was young. I am pretty sure I always thought the sun rose and set in my dad, but he was pretty much always working, so he wasn't around enough to really tick me off. I remember when I was little thinking of smart mouthed things I would have said to my mom if I was only a little older or had any guts. My mom was the disciplinarian and the parent that was always around, which meant that there were a lot of times when she ticked me off.

I was a teen when my mother was diagnosed with mental illness. I felt bitter and disgust. When she finally got her chemical imbalance under control and became part of my life in a normal parental way, I was just angry. A part of me hung on to the anger and disgust for quite awhile. That is until I was diagnosed with a chemical imbalance and was able to finally understand what my mom had gone through. I was about twenty when I was diagnosed. My perception of my mother changed completely, I saw her as strong and determined. Now I looked at her with respect and admiration. I was so thankful for her guidance and support. I now knew what and amazing person my mother was.

My mom recently passed away, I am amazed at how much I depended on her. I am tremendously happy that my view of her had changed with plenty of time left for me to let her know what an amazing person and mother I thought she was.

During a recent conversation with my dad, we were talking about how my sister and I both thought he was a great father. He then reminded me of a vow I had made and also broke. I had promised myself I would not marry someone like my dad. Not because my dad is some awful person, he is totally wonderful and devoted, but because he worked all the time and missed a lot of things over the years that were important. I think the reason I don't think of him as a workaholic or absent parent is because he was always there for the big things. A high school choir performance, he changed my daughter's first dirty diaper. He was there to help me through the death of my mother, always available when I needed advice, My dad gave me the freedom to be who I was and also challenged me to see things from a different point of view, now that I am married with kids of my own, I can understand his need to work. He just wanted us to be taken care of. Well I'm pretty sure he liked working too, but for him working to provide for us was his way showing us that he loved us, and as an adult, I can't find fault with that.

I think as adults we get to finally see who our parent's really are. Not as the super hero we thought they were when we were children, and not the mean, psycho, ogres we saw then as when we were teens. We see them as regular people, failable as any other human being, no better and no worse than anyone else. Just more special because of the trust, support and love they gave us unconditionally over the years. I hope I'm lucky enough to have my children see me for who I really am, and know that though I made mistakes I love them more than anything in the world, just as my parents did with me.