I'm not even sure I know why I'm posting today. I think it may be because just last night I came across a quote written by Anne Sexton:
"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.”
I don't have a relationship with my father and I'm okay with that. I saw him at a funeral several years ago. It was very strange to see him, and I remember thinking how nice his complexion was - go figure. Surprising, it was very unemotional for me.
At times, he could be the best father. But, mostly he wasn't.
I guess the best word to describe how I remember him would be disappointing.
And, I also wonder, just when do parents fall out of love with their kids? I've seen it repeatedly where a child is born and the parents are head over heels in love with their little bundle of joy.
Then the years pass and before you know it there's no longer respect for this child. They find it okay to spank (or worse) this little person. They use sarcastic tones when speaking to this little person. They forbid, with no explanation as to why.
Over time, the actions of the parent start to chip away at a child's confidence.
Parents should love their children more than anything else in the world. Anything and everything.
My Story, But Not My Race
15 hours ago