Clash of the Cultures--Part III

The more I think about it, the more I recognize it.  My mother was who she was.  She has always been brave and strong, but not reckless.  Daddy?  He was brave, strong and reckless.  He never would have made 83 if not for the warden (as he called my mother).  She kept him in line, yet honored him.  She monitored his spending, yet didn't embarrass him.  She got furious at him, but revered him.  She saved his life because she found him worthy.

My dad didn't have a lot to look forward to when he met my mother.  He was a 26-year-old divorced combat veteran and father of two.  His life was complicated and messy.  Even at his tender age, there was no one to fall back on, no support, no place to go with the messages life had sent his way...but the redhead in the bus station offered him a future with her.  She hung onto every word he said, loved his stories, embraced his past, accepted him where he was at and laid her entire existence before him in the form of matrimony.  It didn't hurt that she was beautiful beyond compare and made him the envy of most of the young men in York.  If you read Proverbs 31:10-31, you will see described there the virtuous wife.  My mom didn't know the words of those verses, and had no relationship in her life to use as a point of reference for marriage building.  But she seemed to know intuitively how to love a husband, how to be a virtuous wife.  My mother made everything we had and everything we did seem as if it was the best money could buy.  Entire companies went out of business due to making our cars and campers so well (bet ya didn't know that!). 

Our house was often filled, however, with anger and yelling because neither of my parents had ever been taught conflict resolution strategies.  Still, they held hands, wrote each other love notes, took vacations, didn't drink more than the occasional beer (with spaghetti) or daquiri, quit smoking, told us children they loved us, took us all to church, hugged and kissed us daily, and defended us from every mean teacher or principal we ever had.  We ate a hot meal at the right time every evening and my mom never forgot field trip days or the utter specialness of birthdays.  She and my father carried on some of the more damaging behaviors from their own families of origin, but all four of us have made decisions to break as many of these cycles as possible.  We do not have to be like our parents--any of us!  We can hold hands and refuse to carry on damaging behaviors, but for heaven's sake, let us not be so arrogant that we don't seek out and emulate the good!  We all want better for our children than we had.  My parents broke cycles they came by naturally, and they did it consciously.  Let us then make every effort to do the same!