About My Parents

I don’t talk much about my parents on this blog. But, there’s something you should know about them. They are incredible.

I didn’t always know how incredible my parents were. They went through a devastating divorce when I was only 5, so I saw my parents at their absolute worst when I was still very young. While I was dealing with a painful home life, all of my friends seemed to be living untroubled lives with parents that were married, mom’s that didn’t work half as much as mine, and no awareness of money or a possible lack of money.

When I look back now, I suspect that maybe things weren’t so perfect in my friends’ lives. I’ve also realized that as much as I resented having to deal with my parent’s divorce and its aftermath, I was still very sheltered as a child.

It wasn’t until I started working that I finally gained some perspective on my parents. In the seventeen years leading up to that point, most of my friends had been girls very much like myself. They were nice and sweet and came from peaceful homes. Working exposed me to a much more diverse group of people. They had parents who were irrational and inconsistent, who borrowed money from their children, who didn’t speak English, or who simply didn’t care. I remember hearing a story about the friend of one of the girls I worked with; this friend’s mom met a guy, and took off, leaving her high school aged daughter with nothing more than rent paid until the end of the month. I mean, these stories are all very PG. I can’t even imagine what some kids had to deal with.

I don’t say my parents are incredible just because I love them or just because they’ve been through difficult times. I say they’re incredible, because they are the most even-tempered, hard-working , dependable people I know. They didn’t attend every school function, they didn’t know what assignments I had due when, and they never swooped down to rescue me from my own mistakes. But, growing up, I never had to act like the adult. I always came home to a warm house with food in the cupboards. When my parents told me they were going to do something, the did it. They let me make my own decisions and clean up after my own mistakes.

That’s the thing that makes me think that out of everyone I know, I have the best parents. They taught me lessons all the way through. I started receiving an allowance when I was only six or seven. And, you know what? I hated it. When my friends went to Toys-R-Us, their parents would just buy them something. When I went to Toys-R-Us with my mom, I had to weigh my options. I only had the allowance I received every pay day ($3 to start), and if I bought something right away, then I’d have to wait another two weeks for anything more. When it was time for new school clothes, my mom would give me $100, and it was up to me to spend it wisely. When I got to college, my parents gave me a certain amount of money, and coming up with the rest was up to me. I was certainly jealous of classmates who never even saw their college bills. I still am, actually. But, I think what my parents did was smarter, and I hope I’m better for it, because moving home is not an option. Once I got a degree, that door was closed. I’m out on my own; I don’t have a room at my mom’s house for a safety net if I fail.

As an adult, I’m not just grateful for the wonderful life my parents have given me. I’m grateful to have them in my life, because they’re amazing people. I mean, I can talk politics with my dad who is much more conservative than I am, and I can talk theology with my mom who is much more traditional than I am, and these conversation don’t end in tears or raised voices. When I tell my parents things, I don’t have to worry about regretting it later. They’re willing to offer help when I ask for it, but they don’t intrude in my life.

I love them.

I have to say, though, that if my parents failed at anything, it’s that they didn’t prepare me for a world full of people who don’t do what they say they will, who lash out in irrational jealousy and anger, and who have little sense of personal responsibility.  They didn’t prepare me for a world in which people like them are unique.