“Maybe you’re there for that reason.”
Those words hung in the air like a Cumulus on an otherwise cloudless day. She was so right. I was made to be the way I am because of the role I’d play in the lives of my parents. No one else could be my mom’s daughter but me.
For the last 3 years, my coworker and I have had daily vent sessions about everything under the sun. I’ve confided in my co-worker about almost everything. I’ve listened to her rant and rave about her daughters and husband. Her mom and siblings. Even our boss and coworkers. And I’ve quietly listened…sometimes lending advice about situations that I was all too familiar with. And likewise, she’s been there to hear me out with my situations. My boyfriends, my best friends and especially my parents.
Yesterday as I sat in the break room with her eating lunch, the conversation somehow came to my parents. Before I knew it, I was in full rant mode about my folks and how I feel caught between the two. My dad vents to me about my mom…and likewise. Not that she’s a bad person, but she seriously lacks communication skills and what I would consider normal human interaction skills. She means well, but never does well when it comes to relationships with anyone. And over the years, it has taken a tremendous toll on my dad and I. Him more so than me…of course, since he married to her and all. But it’s a tough situation to be in. To love someone who has this problem that I honestly don’t think can ever be fixed. She unintentionally embarrasses us almost everywhere we go. She’s controlling and bossy. Closed minded and stuck in her ways. Every conversation will usually lead to an argument and she will always take things too far and hurt your feelings.
Yet…she’s really the sweetest person I’ve ever met. She’s giving and loving. She’s always there to listen and give wise advice. She’s constantly trying to find ways to help others…and have done so on countless occasions. She’s really quite fragile, despite her hard exterior. Never understanding why people dislike her before she even speaks to them.
How can that be? I mean she genuinely doesn’t mean to be this brash, harsh person I described earlier, but her efforts to change only yields minuscule results. It’s something dad and I have learned to live with over the years.
It was the only reason I had to get my own place. My parents have a 4 bedroom / 2.5 bath house with a fully furnished basement and a garage. Huge back yard and plenty of room since it’s just the 3 of us. But my mom’s personality made the house feel as if we’re all stuck in a small elevator together.
I never knew how much it affected my dad until I moved back home. The relief on his face was evident. It was almost like he was saying “thanks for coming back and sharing some of the load with me”. I often wonder why I was the one who became my mother’s daughter. But the more I think about it, the more I realized that God made me just the way I am, to compliment the way she is.
I totally believe that God knew that any other kind of personality would not do. HE gave me some extra doses of patience and love to be able to handle these situations without flying off the handle at her or leaving and never coming back. I always wondered why my life took the turns they did…and why no matter how hard I’ve tried to get away, I just couldn't leave my parents. It’s like I’m magnetically drawn to be close to them…and I hated it for a while…but…
Maybe I’m there for a reason.
Maybe I’m the mediator.
The one who understands them both and gives them each reason to continue to stay together.
Maybe I help share my dad’s load.
Maybe I’m there to be my mom’s friend and counselor.
I’m definitely there for a reason.
I know it’s going to be tough when I move out for good next year.
