||[Dec. 9th, 2004|10:51 am]
As I was driving home last night, I was reflecting back on my childhood, youthful naivety where things then seem so tough, so hard, so complicated. I was thinking about my parents and instead of falling in my profoundly based jealousy, justified anger and bitter resentment, remembering the yelling, the punishment, being sent to my room, ignored, unloved and uncared for and how much more privileged my younger siblings were compared to me, something amazing started happening... As I grow older, I am beginning to understand how it would be to be a parent of my own, I realized that I now have the tools to appreciate where my parents were coming from. No longer am I bitter at the fact that I treated unfairly but instead, I have let go of that anger and started realizing just how much time my mom spent guiding me patiently through my homework, every night, how she asked me questions instead of telling me how to do it, how she would drop everything when I'd get a scratch or a cut from falling off my bike and attended to me with tender, loving, care. I remember her cutting squares out of material and making me homemade bandages just like you'd see in hospitals. She would make us hot chocolate when we were playing outside in minus 30 degree weather. Even during winter, she would often pull up her boots and her ski suit, walk out, pile us three kids on this toboggan and she would pull us up the long hill, until we would reach the top and then push us down. We would all be giggling because the speed would have made us loose balance and one of us would inevitably stick a foot out and send us all tumbling in the snow... she would do this several times and have enough energy to make us all a warm supper. At night, she would kneel with me beside my bed every night to say a prayer, teaching me how important it is to be grateful for all we have.
My mother, my pillar, my inspiration, taught me how important it is to be in touch with your emotions, how to express them. My father was a strong man and when he said NO to me, I knew there would be no negotiating, no asking twice and no pouting. He taught me to never, ever let anyone tell you who you should be or how you should be. Believing in yourself was his motto.
I have once and for all left that anger behind and recognize that my parents did more for me, than most parents out there. They gave me solid rules, they taught me manners, respect, they taught me that things do not come on a silver platter, I had to work for them.
Amazing how your perspective changes as you get older...