As a child everything seemed so clear as to the roles of each of my family members: I was the oldest kid (in charge my younger sibling), Glen was the younger of the two (and in charge of being sweet and innocent), and Mom was supposed to be the one to take care of us. There were times when she failed miserably at that, but there were times when Glen and I also failed--he wasn't always so cute and I sometimes didn't much feel like keeping an eye on him. Regardless of the periodic failure, we saw them for what they were: a deviation from our familial role. Even though I would worry when she started going on with her imaginary boyfriends, it was never as much about her as a person as it was about Glen and I or the continued well-being of our little family.
Likewise, after Glen and I were separated and I was shipped off to live with my father and his new wife, I never saw fit to worry about how they were doing or their emotional needs. It wasn't "all about me" by a long shot, but I still never had the all-encompassing concern for any of my parents that they had for me.
Somehow, somewhere things have changed.
My mother still suffers from schizophrenia, however, these days when she goes off her medication and her and reality take a little break from one another, I truly and deeply fear for her. As I've grown I've come to understand what she's been through and I know the horror that awaits inside of her. Now, all I can hope for is for her to come back to the real world--a part of me wants to hold her and make the monsters all go away just like she did for me as a child.
My father on the other hand is the unruly child who needs to have a good talkin' to and (possibly, for his bad attitude) a spankin. At the very least he needs to go to bed without supper! This isn't beause he did anything ~bad~ to me, he's a very good person and, on the surface, seemingly successful. However, he hasn't paid very good attention in the school of life. This is about that poor report card he keeps getting back.
Plays well with others - D
Displays an ability to think independently - F
Communicates his ideas thoughtfully and clearly - C
Works diligently toward his goals - A
Even with the A that looks like only a 1.75 average there... no college for you, buddy!
What happened? At what point did I start to see and understand things that my parents don't (or can't, as the case may be). Is this what happens to people when they go through college--or at least at some point past the "college age"? It seems like at some point when the parent no longer has the overbearing responsibility for their child's well-being (right about the point that the child can pay it's own bills, make it's own decisions, etc. etc.) the parent reverts back to being human. An imperfect, flawed, human. Perhaps that it best that we can each hope for our parents, that they too someday get to sit back, relax, and stop worrying about us.
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