I recently heard “Another Day in Paradise” by Phil Collins, which I hadn’t heard since the 80s when I was a kid. It immediately brought back memories of being at home and Mom playing that song a lot, with just the two of us in the house, after Dad left.
Looking back at those memories through my adult eyes (I have a nearly-photographic memory and can vividly remember even ancient memories as if I’m still there), I can see my mom’s sadness and loneliness.
And then I realize she was my age. She had a little five year old boy. She was alone, unsure what to do. Putting on a smiling face not just for me but for herself too, cleaning the house with that song blasting. Like, I can watch the memories like video and I can see the heartache I couldn’t see back then.
I just want to go back in time, wrap my arms around her, and hold her tight.
The worst thing is growing up and seeing them less and less to the point where once you do end up seeing them, they look WAY older than your mental image of them. Cherish your parents while you have them
It was really weird for me to have some honest talks with my parents once I was well into adulthood. It took me way too long to realize they are people with their own problems to solve and a life and preferences, a personal history and all that. It's weird how you tend to see your parents differently from other people until they deem you old enough to open up.
I always thought the universe did a nasty by making the ideal breeding age for humans to be when it really is one of the worst times mentally/emotionally. 20 or so yrs later when more experience (and hopefully wisdom) has been gained, the eggs are shrivelling and the bullets are misfiring.
It was weird for me when I was finally older than my parents when they had me, and I was still a barely functioning human being. Props to you, mom and dad. You did the best you could and I appreciate that you brought me into this world (most days).
It’s hitting me kind of hard watching my folks in their mid-60s. Their health is starting to slip a little bit in small but noticeable ways. I never really saw it until recently
This one hits home. One day you just start seeing your parent/guardian as a frail old person who needs your assistance and love (obvs if it was a positive relationship). It makes me feel important but it also scare me knowing we’re reaching the end. I know, no one has life guaranteed but you know, growing older just pushes you towards that end anyway.
Middle aged man baby with a lovely wife with aspirations of having a child here reporting in.
Not having read any comments.. this hits hard and goddamn you OP 😖
Because society and our parents themselves gaslight us into thinking they're perfect. It kind of annoys me that not seeing one's parents as flawed human beings is treated as a failure of the child. I knew my parents made some bad decisions. It wasn't my idea to give them absolute power over every aspect of my life.Yeah, they're flawed human beings like me, but I'm the one who suffered because they wouldn't admit to their flaws and reconsider their decisions. It wasn't me who couldn't tell they weren't perfect.
when we had our first child, we are borderline bankrupt , our bank account has only two digit numbers, we are out of work, relying on family to provide us food. Eleven years later with lots of hard work we have bought our first home. I am forever thankful to the people who helped us get us through
Yeah seriously. If you are in your 20s now, you just have no idea. As you get older you realize how accurate this statement is. My parents are getting really old and it's crazy to think that I am there age now.
My mother has complained for years how her adopted parents didn't do a good job raising her. At the time they had three kids of their own and then adopted my mother and her sibling who are their nieces. One day I did the math and pointed out to my mother that her adopted parents were only 25 when they took on 5 kids and did she think their age had something to do with it? It blew her mind and gave her a whole new perspective ... for a few minutes. Then she jumped back on the whinge wagon. Sometimes what we want to see is more important than objective observations.