Spider – You Can Pick Your Friends but You Can’t Pick Your Family…
I borrowed this picture from Somewhere Joe over at Hooky Beach. This picture just spoke volumes to me. If you have been following this blog and my previous one, you will know that my relationship with my parents has not always been the best in the world. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized how dysfunctional my family was – and no, that is not just pop psychology lingo left over from the 1970’s. My Mom and I were inseparable when I was a child – it wasn’t until I got older and realized what was going on that that changed. My Dad and I could never stay in the same room for over 15 minutes without being at each others throats.
This picture shows something that I never had – a Dad who would take time with me, teach me, explain things to me patiently and let me learn from him. My Dad was the 6 A’s and B Dad – “why did you get the “B” – you obviously didn’t work hard enough.” My Dad was a one time teacher – you didn’t get it the first time, well, you didn’t get a second chance – but you better do it right. My Dad is the only person who has ever said to my face that they hated me… twice. My Mother called me a son of a bitch this last trip down but I just considered the source.
One of the things that I was actually relieved about when I figured out I was gay was that I would not have children and I would not be the kind of father that my Dad was to me – it was a relief that I would not have to subject another human to something like that.
As you may have been following, my parents came down to visit and to “take care of me” after both of my surgeries. The first trip down was a little short of a disaster, but the second trip down. I am not sure what happened – but things began to click between my Dad and I. I didn’t mind being in the same room with him. We actually went out together and did some things together – went to look at new cars, things like that. Maybe it is because we both have my Mother to bitch about, we now have common ground – but we actually got along.
Maybe we have had problems because we are much more alike than I care to admit. Maybe we both are realizing that maybe neither of us have much time left here – and we have wasted 47 years being pissed off at each other. Maybe both of us just need someone at this point in our lives – or maybe we just realized that maybe we need each other.
Funny how life works out…