I just got back from a week's vacation with my parents. Let's let that sink in for a moment. I'm a 37 year old woman who just went on vacation with HER PARENTS. A decade younger and I might still be in the age range of someone who could understandably be mooching off the folks. A decade older and you might expect my parents to be mooching off of me. But, I'm in that odd in-between age when a vacation with Mom and Dad brings with it a nagging sense of failure. By this time in my life, I expected to be herding around a couple of kids across the country to show them the sights, not calling for the shotgun seat in my parents RV.
Once I got beyond worrying about what a 37 year old's vacation is supposed to look like, and focused on what my vacation actually was, I had a lovely time. Except for one thing.
Have you ever felt like a third wheel while hanging out with your own parents?
I have to say, this wasn't a shock. My parents have always been the lovey dovey type. But, I kinda thought, after being stuck at the hip 24/7 for the past three months (they've been traveling around alone in that RV since April) they would have gotten tired of each other by now. But, on the bus ride back from a long hike, I look over and see they're holding hands and looking out the window together.
Sure, they still get annoyed with each other. Sometimes, when I manage to get my mom on the phone (their itinerary seems to be taking them through every single no-coverage area on AT&T's map) it'll take her a half hour to come up for breath while telling me about the little things my dad does that annoy her. And once, while driving over unfamiliar territory before his first cup of coffee, my dad did speak a teensy bit harshly to my mom and I, before quickly making a joke and laughing it off.
But, for the most part, my folks have got it figured out. This, despite the fact that in one major respect, they couldn't be more dissimilar.
My mom is the most optimistic person you'll ever meet. She can even make me look like a cynic. If you know me, you know that's quite a feat.
My dad is prone to brooding. Sometimes his moods can stretch on for months. And nothing drives an optimist like me and my mom crazier than a brooder.
I think my dad might otherwise be considered depressed, if he wasn't married to my mom. There are definitely times when he's overcome with worry, dismay, or even hopelessness. But, in their more than 45 years together (my parents were high school sweethearts) my clinically depressed father has adjusted to living with my unflinchingly optimistic mom.
These days, he might better be described as a depressed optimist, or a optimistic depressive. Imagine the most downtrodden statement from Winnie the Pooh's Eyore, said in the chipper voice of Tigger.
And my mom, who like many mothers has a compulsive need to "fix" everything, somehow can simply ignore my dad's moods. She's never been able to give herself (or her kids) the emotional freedom to feel negative emotions, but she lets my father's dark moods just roll through unnoticed.
I have to say, even after watching this dynamic play out my whole life, I'm perplexed at how it works. It certainly doesn't work for me! My ex-husband was depressed all right, but his moods didn't roll off me. They consumed me. Instead of ignoring his drama and waiting for it to play out, I'd spring into motion, trying everything I could to lift him out of his depression. I'd even take on some of the blame, letting him try to convince me that if I was just a little more (insert the complaint of the month here) he would have no cause to be depressed.
So, how do my parents make it look so easy? Is it simply that they've been together since they were 15 and 16. Are they so very well suited because they basically became adults together? Their personalities formed in the shadow of the other, so that they would forever be, not necessarily what the other person wants, but what the other person needs.
If so, am I twenty years past my prime? I mean, I am who I am. The guys I meet are who they are. We're no longer soft clay. There is no longer the possibility of molding our personalities to fit the other's.
But, unlike my mom, I don't need someone who can go along with my Pollyanna view of the world. And, unlike my dad, I don't need someone who can pretend that I'm not in a bad mood. While my parents need each other to counter-act the extremes of their personality, I strive to be a whole person, all on my own. I don't need someone who's a perfect foil for my imperfections. My imperfections are my business. I just need someone, also an imperfect whole person, who's willing to deal with their own crap...and let me deal with mine.
That can't be too hard, can it?
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