Family - part 3

Not sure where I'm going with this one, but it's prompted by a question C asked me two nights ago.

Do you like your mother?

Usually, there'd be a straightfoward, positive answer to that question. I had to think about it. Of course, lying in bed, late at night probably wasn't the best time to start having a conversation like that, but things come up when they come up, so I answered as well as I could.

I do like my mum - as surprisingly hard as that was to actually type out in words. She can be funny and she knows just about anything you ever needed to know, and then some. Don't know something? Ring my mum. Don't ask her about mathematics though. She's no good at that.

We're nothing alike, (yet I find myself berating myself sometimes for doing things that are so like her). She grew up with a governess in England, went to school in a castle and her mother (my grandmother) did sculptures for the Queen. A distant relative of ours married into the royal family. It was never seen as a proper royal marriage though, because the relative was not of the proper class. Mum has a royal signet ring (like those rings with an emblem on them that they use as stamps with hot wax) which she's eventually going to give to my brother. She read the dictionary for fun. She speaks with a very proper accent (which I sometimes slip into when I talk to her for too long). In contrast to her upbringing, she now lives from pension to pension. The air of superiority is there though - quite evident when she's discussing people who are unlike her. She doesn't really like people who aren't like her.

As I'm typing this, I'm thinking shit, I hope my family never reads this. Well, too bad. I've never rocked the boat. When it does happen, maybe that'll be a good thing - relief for everyone.

Do I like my mother? Yeah, she's ok. C said it appeared I resented her. I don't mean for it to appear that way, but perhaps I do. I've separated my emotions from my relationship with her. I told him my brother and I never had any role models. Mum certainly wasn't a good example. She was always depressed, never happy. She had a boyfriend who lived with us for quite a long time, who was an alcoholic, a chain smoker, and who continually verbally and physically abused her. Dad? He was good. Maybe too passive though. We only saw him once a week, on a Tuesday night. On those nights, he taught art classes, so my brother and I didn't really get to spend 'quality' time with him, either.

My brother and I learned to be self sufficient. We coped, because we had to. We learned, because we had to. We got out of home as soon as possible. Because we had to.

I find myself marvelling at what a good parent C is. His biggest joy is his son, and when we have him, his time is spent making A feel loved, making sure he's having fun, educating him and generally helping to turn him into a well rounded, happy human being. It's so far removed from what I'm used to that it makes it even more of a privilege to me to be able to be a small part of that.

Do I like my mother? Yeah. Do I love her? With total honesty, I can say, I don't think so. I don't comprehend that love of a parent that a child is supposed to have. Being with C, I'm getting a sense of what it's like to have a bond with a child, but with a parent? No. They say (whoever 'they' are) that everyone loves their parents, because you just do. I don't subscribe to that notion. I'm sure I'm not the only one who cannot relate feelings of love, warmth, caring and understanding towards their parents.

The reason C asked me that question is because he said he needs to be able to feel the same way about her as I do. I'm not sure I completely agree with that, because I think he needs to form his own opinion eventually, but since we live so far away, I can see why he'd want to try to emulate my perspective, especially since it might be a while before he does meet either of my parents (or my sisters, for that matter).

His situation with his parents is the complete opposite of mine. They're still married, appear to be quite content being in each other's company, and have brought up three great children. He has a good relationship with them (as do I, thankfully).

We didn't really finish our conversation. I felt I needed to talk to him about things at a time when we both weren't half asleep and when I felt I could properly convey my thoughts.

But it occured to me, my brother and I have done damn fine by ourselves, considering we had no real guidance growing up. Sure, we're sometimes a little too stubborn and independent, but overall, I don't think that's too much of a bad thing. I'm glad I can look after myself.

In a way, I feel like I've now been given a small chance to make up for (stuff), having the opportunity to care for and guide, albeit in a small way, C's son. I appreciate more my responsibility, because I know what the alternative is like. I may not ever want kids of my own, but if I can make a tiny difference to someone else's, then that's pretty cool to me.