Thursday, March 1, 2012

Family Values

(Ed note: Had an opportunity to read a new, young writer's view of a dysfunctional family that was full of abuse. Then, while I was thinking about that story she wrote, I ran into an old friend who had been close to me and I knew a lot about his family's background. I learned a lot from reading Cheryl's blog and from listening to Ed's {not his real name} family story. I hope it touches you, as well.)



Family Values

He wasn’t struck in the face or the head – no body blows or cuts and gashes.  No one put cigarettes out on his skin. But he was abused just the same.  Horribly so, to hear him tell it.

Neglect has as cruel an affect as does physical punishment. The parent you want to love who tunes you out and doesn’t listen to you nor pay attention to you, especially in those impressionable, formative years when a guiding hand on your life’s tiller would be most beneficial – that parent is an abuser. Plain and simple.  But physical abuse, my friend never got that. All he got was benign neglect.  I don’t know why they call it benign; it was as harmful as anything I have ever seen dished out. Cancerous, really.

But that was years ago.  He has since grown into a man, fought and defeated the daemons that wrestled with him from that childhood, had a family all his own– a family he has made sure not to treat in the same manner to which he grew accustomed to during his own youth. If anything, he went overboard in showering his children with attention.  “You don’t have to give them things,” he once told me.  “But you sure can spoil them with yourself.  Give them all of your time and attention and that – that more than anything – will help them build their self-esteem. They will see their worth in your attention. Then they can spend their time working on their self-image.  One comes from without, one from inside the soul. But the parent nourishes the formation of both.”
           
He is right. It is not the stuff we are given by parents, not if you define stuff as the physical gifts, money, cars, jewelry – that type of things.  It’s not the toys that were or were not bought for us, but rather, it is the time and attention showered over us at just the right moments, that make our lives so rich and fulfilling.

“Parenting,” he went on to say, “is about guidance.  But not like a puppeteer but more like a master chef watching over his kitchen.  He helps pick the ingredients for the young chefs, the older ones, get his eye for their detail. And the truly experienced chefs, he helps them to find their way out of his kitchen into their own someday.”

His dad died in January. They had his funeral. I went.

He did not. 

I saw him the other day and there was a moment of embarrassed and awkward silence from me as I thought about how to word my question. “Where were you? Why weren’t you at your father’s funeral?” I wanted to know.

It wasn’t awkward at all for him.  He as forthright and honest. “I hated him. All he did was plant his seed in my mother and then emotionally he walked away from me and my sister for the rest of our lives. He was there in body only. So why should I honor him with my presence at the day we are putting him back in the ground? Why should I be a hypocrite and listen to all the platitudes people were going to say about what a fine Christian man he was? I knew the truth. He was a bum.” He paused.

“Maybe he was from that generation that didn’t know how to show their affection.  Maybe his silence was an embarrassment in not knowing how to say, I love you.” I argued trying to shed some logic on this family dilemma.

“A cruel bum.” He amplified. “His father didn’t treat him like that. Neither did his grandfather. They were both loving men. It is not natural to be so withdrawn from those you created.  No, my old man was a cruel, heartless bum. Let’s leave it at that.”

I respected his wishes, but his words saddened me.

I wanted to save this and run it on father’s day.  But it would be too big a downer for such a day. So why not today? It is a good lesson. A good lesson anytime.

Want your kids to love and respect you? Don’t give them things.

Give them you.

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