Who’s The Daddy?
When I was a kid, I thought it would be cool to be older, because I’d know how it felt to be an adult like my parents. Then I could think like they did and see the world from their perspective.
Not that I didn’t like being a kid, or lived for the future, I just wanted to see the world like they did. I think that’s why I became a journalist, because I was always interested in seeing how other people saw things, or seeing things in a new way.
Then when I did grow up (eventually), my folks older and I had left home. I moved away when I was fourteen, but every time I went back, I knew I still didn’t really see things like them, because their view of the world had changed.
“When I have kids,” I thought, “I’ll understand what they know about the world.”
But mum died before the kids were born and I kind of got how my dad felt when he became a dad, but not what he was feeling, because he had an adult son in me and I had this new baby. Also, the mother of his kids had died, so I didn’t understand life the way he did.
And I grew to I realise that I could never see the world the way my parents did because all our lives were in a constant state of change. I could never catch up with my mum and dad because they had moved on, through different times, through family situations of which I was a part, just like my son is right now. And they could never see things the way I could while my life was different from theirs.
And there’s the understanding - that we will never see things the same because we can never be the same. Trying to experience things exactly like your parents is like trying to cross the same river twice. Families move on just the same - they have their patterns, but they are in a constant state of flux. Even if they seem familiar, they only follow a plotted course, and the contents are ever-changing.
It’s also comforting to know that your kids will never totally understand you. I’m bearing that in mind for when they become teenagers.
Tell you what was weird. Living at home in my early twenties after having lived away for so many years. My parents and I had a pretty normal and healthy relationship but despite that, it was weird suddenly being adults in the same house as people. It took some adjustment, but I’d rather have to deal with adjusting my relationships with my parents than to have lived a sheltered life and have to suddenly adjust to dealing with the world.
But yeah. You absolutely can not ever go home again any more than you can climb the same tree.
More reasons why families are like rivers:
1. They usually take the path of least resistance
2. The bigger they become, the more scary they get
3. You wouldn’t want to walk into an unfamiliar one without a big stick
4. Given enough time, they can wear down anything
5. They make excellent settings for novels
May 24th, 2006 at 12:17 pm
I’ve had this vbery same train of thought, and I came to the realization that my father and I are two cameras set in fixed positions on a wire. We can point to the same things and be right newxt to one another, and our perspective will always be just a hair different.
And I’ve realized, that’s a good thing, because the more perspectives you have, the deeper, fuller, and richer your perception can be.
I’ve noted that your perception is deep, full, and rich, as is your father’s.
May 24th, 2006 at 4:01 pm
That’s a very big shout Ed. Also a huge compliment.
May 25th, 2006 at 2:08 am
Family:
Actually quite good.
Cast mine aside for 20 years out of churlishness, and am only beginning to see what I’ve missed. Father is gone, but I don’t miss him.