"When I was your age"
By R.E. Morin
"I have not so much thought my way through life as done things and found what it was and who I was after the doing."- Ray Bradbury
When I was my sons age, I was married with two kids. In some ways, I was responsible, in others, horribly irresponsible. I thought I was doing the right thing by starting a family, although many around me were opposed. Mine was a gay marriage of a different sort, the kind where a gay man marries a straight woman. Sound familiar?
Very few days pass, out in our community, when I dont meet another gay dad. Very seldom though, do I meet a father who has had sole custody and has raised his kids without help from their mother. Usually, a divorced father sends child support payments and gets weekend visits. My world was a little different because a post-divorce car crash impaired my former wifes physical and mental capabilities. The poor kids got stuck with me!
If you want to bitch about those child support payments and how you sacrificed your weekends and vacations to tend to your little ones, then you can cry on someone elses shoulder. If youre weary from years of tending to the perpetual piles of dirty dishes and laundry, your nerves are frazzled from frequent trips to the Emergency Room, the School Counselor and perhaps the occasional Police Department, then sit next to me.
I used to have this crazy fantasy that by the time my youngest was 18, my burden would be tremendously relieved. No more laundry and dishes, because they can do their own, right? No more playing taxi, because theyd have drivers licenses and cars. Theyd have jobs and money of their own I had ALL those fantasies! And thats exactly what they were.
In the last two months I have spent countless hours sitting in hospitals, bailing out towed cars, preparing and cleaning up after meals and handing out what little cash I have, to these "grown" children. The middle child got married and moved away, at the same time struggling with a terrible illness. The oldest hit yet another "rock bottom" and has come home to have his wounds tended, and the youngest is still here, getting ready, I hope, for college. I used to think it was hard when they were little. I had no idea
My kids and I had a serious talk the other day. It was important for me to let them know that I understand their struggles. Im proud of my kids for being sexually responsible, and not making babies (yet). They have caused plenty of mischief in their lives, but at least they havent dug themselves in so deep they cant get out. When my parents were the age I am now, my brother and I had already given them four grandchildren. They were no more prepared to be grandparents, than we were to be parents.
If someone had told me that at forty-four I would be struggling just as hard at parenting as I was when I was twenty, Id have died. The challenges I face daily are no less arduous, they leave me drained and feeling like theres so much more to be done, still. Every day I ask myself what I can do differently or better. Just when I think I can quit the therapist that Ive seen for twelve years, I realize that his job with me is still quite secure. One thing that is helpful is that Im much more tempered and resilient than I used to be. Instead of freaking out when my twenty two year old son crawls home after a drunken brawl with his rock-band buddies, I sit him down to punish his aching head with a long story. It starts like this- "When I was your age"
Monday, January 11, 2010
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Parenting
Current mood: calm
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes
These Kids Today
By R.E.Morin
I recently read about a little girl who went missing. One minute she was there with her family, the next she was gone. It could have turned out to be one of those tragic stories where a child gets abducted or killed, but it wasnt. She was found twelve hours later, sleeping under a bush.
I lost my young daughter at the Common Ground Fair once. It seemed as though she disappeared in the blink of an eye. I started turning in circles, shouting her name, then made an ever-widening search, which became more and more filled with panic and tears. After what seemed like an hour or two, she turned up at a vending booth, set up by one of our neighbors. It was one of my scariest parenting moments.
In a sense, "coming out" is like parenting. We need to nurture ourselves in the face of adversity and hate. Gay people face more challenges learning to love themselves and usually struggle harder with family relationships. It is heartening to see someone who lives openly and honestly, embracing the darker aspects of their being, as well as the light. Conversely, its frightening to see someone living a dual existence, showing one side of themselves to their family and loved ones, but secretly carrying on in ways that they think are dark and shameful. I feel sorry for people who dont have the courage to love themselves. Sometimes people who appear nice and sweet on the outside are the last people you really want around your children.
I got lost in the woods when I was five. We were at a family camp up north, when I wandered off in the middle of the night. I got up to pee in the bushes and lost my way somehow. Feeling the dirt path under my bare feet was the only way I could navigate through the forest. It was pitch black and terrifying under the thick canopy of trees. After several hours and a couple miles, I spied a light in the distance. I finally came upon a circle of longhaired, flower children, playing guitars and smoking Peace Pipes around a fire. At first they gasped when seeing my dirtied face appear into the light, then one of them scooped me up onto his shoulders and carried me all the way back to my family, who were all asleep, and had no idea I was gone. That wouldve been a happy ending to the story if it ended there. Sadly, the commotion of my return woke everyone up and enraged my ignorant father. He took me back to where I had been sleeping and beat me with a belt.
My twenty two-year-old son wants to have a family someday. He hopes to pick up the worn, rusty tools of adversity and build something beautiful. He is just learning to really love and embrace himself and become his own, best ally. What I want for him is to realize what a beautiful, brilliant person he is and live life to the fullest. I would be a hypocrite then, if I didnt try to do that myself.
On the school playground I couldnt hit a ball with a bat or dribble a basketball like most of the boys- I wanted to skip rope with the girls. They kept the rhythm of the swinging rope with clapping hands and specially made up songs. I loved that. I also loved the Hula-Hoops and twirling batons that seemed to be meant just for girls. I never could figure that out, and neither could the bullies who knocked the crap out of me.
One reason I write this column is because of those bullies. I dont want them terrorizing your children, or my grandchildren, because they are different. If I can help society relate to us as real, family people, then perhaps fewer children will get called sissies and be beaten up. I do it for the children. Now, you know.
I told my son to practice parenting on himself, that he should be devoted to his own wellness, the same way a loving father would care for his son. Then I fixed his bacon and eggs and drove him to work.
Who is YOUR Daddy? "I am my own Daddy", my publisher always replies when asked that question. I hope for your sake, that you are your own, also. Happy parenting!
"Ours is a culture and a time immensely rich in trash as it is in treasures. Sometimes it is a little hard to tell the trash from the treasure, so we hold back, afraid to declare ourselves. But we are out to give ourselves texture, to collect truths on many levels, and in many ways to test ourselves against life and the truths of others, offered to us."- Ray Bradbury
Parenting
Current mood: calm
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes
These Kids Today
By R.E.Morin
I recently read about a little girl who went missing. One minute she was there with her family, the next she was gone. It could have turned out to be one of those tragic stories where a child gets abducted or killed, but it wasnt. She was found twelve hours later, sleeping under a bush.
I lost my young daughter at the Common Ground Fair once. It seemed as though she disappeared in the blink of an eye. I started turning in circles, shouting her name, then made an ever-widening search, which became more and more filled with panic and tears. After what seemed like an hour or two, she turned up at a vending booth, set up by one of our neighbors. It was one of my scariest parenting moments.
In a sense, "coming out" is like parenting. We need to nurture ourselves in the face of adversity and hate. Gay people face more challenges learning to love themselves and usually struggle harder with family relationships. It is heartening to see someone who lives openly and honestly, embracing the darker aspects of their being, as well as the light. Conversely, its frightening to see someone living a dual existence, showing one side of themselves to their family and loved ones, but secretly carrying on in ways that they think are dark and shameful. I feel sorry for people who dont have the courage to love themselves. Sometimes people who appear nice and sweet on the outside are the last people you really want around your children.
I got lost in the woods when I was five. We were at a family camp up north, when I wandered off in the middle of the night. I got up to pee in the bushes and lost my way somehow. Feeling the dirt path under my bare feet was the only way I could navigate through the forest. It was pitch black and terrifying under the thick canopy of trees. After several hours and a couple miles, I spied a light in the distance. I finally came upon a circle of longhaired, flower children, playing guitars and smoking Peace Pipes around a fire. At first they gasped when seeing my dirtied face appear into the light, then one of them scooped me up onto his shoulders and carried me all the way back to my family, who were all asleep, and had no idea I was gone. That wouldve been a happy ending to the story if it ended there. Sadly, the commotion of my return woke everyone up and enraged my ignorant father. He took me back to where I had been sleeping and beat me with a belt.
My twenty two-year-old son wants to have a family someday. He hopes to pick up the worn, rusty tools of adversity and build something beautiful. He is just learning to really love and embrace himself and become his own, best ally. What I want for him is to realize what a beautiful, brilliant person he is and live life to the fullest. I would be a hypocrite then, if I didnt try to do that myself.
On the school playground I couldnt hit a ball with a bat or dribble a basketball like most of the boys- I wanted to skip rope with the girls. They kept the rhythm of the swinging rope with clapping hands and specially made up songs. I loved that. I also loved the Hula-Hoops and twirling batons that seemed to be meant just for girls. I never could figure that out, and neither could the bullies who knocked the crap out of me.
One reason I write this column is because of those bullies. I dont want them terrorizing your children, or my grandchildren, because they are different. If I can help society relate to us as real, family people, then perhaps fewer children will get called sissies and be beaten up. I do it for the children. Now, you know.
I told my son to practice parenting on himself, that he should be devoted to his own wellness, the same way a loving father would care for his son. Then I fixed his bacon and eggs and drove him to work.
Who is YOUR Daddy? "I am my own Daddy", my publisher always replies when asked that question. I hope for your sake, that you are your own, also. Happy parenting!
"Ours is a culture and a time immensely rich in trash as it is in treasures. Sometimes it is a little hard to tell the trash from the treasure, so we hold back, afraid to declare ourselves. But we are out to give ourselves texture, to collect truths on many levels, and in many ways to test ourselves against life and the truths of others, offered to us."- Ray Bradbury
I will never leave me
if you don't.
I will float above all my worries
because I know we don't exist
except as mere fragments of
swirling stardust.
Make meaning of what you will
but I can still feel the electric tingle
on my tounge from
stepping back into
today from tommorrow's shadows
cast before
...when we kissed.
rem08
if you don't.
I will float above all my worries
because I know we don't exist
except as mere fragments of
swirling stardust.
Make meaning of what you will
but I can still feel the electric tingle
on my tounge from
stepping back into
today from tommorrow's shadows
cast before
...when we kissed.
rem08
Icicles
Think of you
and shaddowy snows melt
icicles drop
Hanging from darkness
deeply thickening
to intricate thought
Has been frought
will not fight
must cannott
I hear your breath
feel your size
of humanness
in tender holding
my mind wants
to sweep itself clean
for your arrival
-visiting wind
brilliant spot.
Monday, March 24, 2008
poem for a friend
Think of you
and shaddowy snows melt
icicles drop
Hanging from darkness
deeply thickening
to intricate thought
Has been frought
will not fight
must cannott
I hear your breath
feel your size
of humanness
in tender holding
my mind wants
to sweep itself clean
for your arrival
-visiting wind
brilliant spot.
Think of you
and shaddowy snows melt
icicles drop
Hanging from darkness
deeply thickening
to intricate thought
Has been frought
will not fight
must cannott
I hear your breath
feel your size
of humanness
in tender holding
my mind wants
to sweep itself clean
for your arrival
-visiting wind
brilliant spot.
Monday, March 24, 2008
poem for a friend
Think of you
and shaddowy snows melt
icicles drop
Hanging from darkness
deeply thickening
to intricate thought
Has been frought
will not fight
must cannott
I hear your breath
feel your size
of humanness
in tender holding
my mind wants
to sweep itself clean
for your arrival
-visiting wind
brilliant spot.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
My Mother's family (The Strouts) moved here from Cornwall, England to Truro, Massachusetts (on The Cape) in 1690. Back then, Maine was still part of Mass. Family members branched off to settle in different areas of New England. Mostly made up of farmers and fisherman here in Maine, our several preceeding generations ranged from Cape Elizabeth on the coast and inland to the Sebago Lakes Region (Raymond).
Two generations of Strouts were Lighthouse Keepers at Portland Head- Joshua Freeman Strout in 1869, followed by his son, Joseph Woodbury Strout in 1886. They were both on hand on Christmas Eve 1826 when the ship Annie Maguire ran aground on the rocks by the lighthouse. Joshua and Joseph threw a lifeline to the ship and helped the entire crew (and families) to shore, one by one. In his book PORTLAND HEAD LIGHT, author William Thompson writes- "The exausting, formidable task was accomplished without injury under the unyielding and fastidious direction of the Strout family."
My mother was born in Raymond, not far from the farm that belonged to HER great-grandfather. Family members still live AND farm there today.
Two generations of Strouts were Lighthouse Keepers at Portland Head- Joshua Freeman Strout in 1869, followed by his son, Joseph Woodbury Strout in 1886. They were both on hand on Christmas Eve 1826 when the ship Annie Maguire ran aground on the rocks by the lighthouse. Joshua and Joseph threw a lifeline to the ship and helped the entire crew (and families) to shore, one by one. In his book PORTLAND HEAD LIGHT, author William Thompson writes- "The exausting, formidable task was accomplished without injury under the unyielding and fastidious direction of the Strout family."
My mother was born in Raymond, not far from the farm that belonged to HER great-grandfather. Family members still live AND farm there today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)