Would You Choose Your Parents?

Some think we choose our parents, some think it’s the luck of the draw or even misfortune or bad karma.

My eighty five year old father and I have been sharing living space for almost two years now. In that time, I have seen and learned a few things that have left me contemplating this question more than once.

I have 2 sisters and a brother and we all agree – if we were to meet our father on the street or at a social function, we would not be inclined to add him to our circle of friends – even if he were our age. What’s the aversion?

To us, he’s just not that interesting. He’s self centered. He talks at you not to you. His range of interests and social skills is limited. He’s the product of a past that is full of sexual innuendo and bad jokes. This list goes on.

Dad has his good points and he sacrificed a lot to raise us. We all love him, but our liking him is more situational than a consistent theme.

You might think me terrible for writing this, but I find it very interesting how you can love and appreciate someone and not be motivated to friend them. I might as well fess up that these thoughts were going through my mind on Father’s Day as well.

The feedback I get from dad is that he would choose us as children if he had the choice, though I’m not sure if he had it all to do over if he would do it the same. BTW – mom passed on a few years ago, so I’m leaving her out of this.

You learn a lot when you live with a parent. Everyday habits can drive you nuts – and as memory weakens and fails, going nuts has a great appeal like a Hawaiian vacation.

All my life, dad was the seat of intelligence. He was always telling us how things were. If we had a thought or idea, he was always quick to correct any misunderstanding on our part. After a few months of living with dad, I noticed that he wasn’t as smart as I always thought he was. As my childhood idealization was challenged by day-to-day reality, I recognized that I am much more intelligent than my father. So sad to see all the years of efforting to not be dumb and gain approval and acceptance. Obviously, those years and efforts were wasted, they helped me to become intelligent.

There’s a lot that I could write, but here’s where I’m left with the question of – Do we choose our parents? If we do, it’s not made from the place we normally make decisions and, for me, that is probably a good thing because God knows where I would be or if I would be.

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