I miss my mom so much it hurts. She died at 68 way too young..
My dad well he abused me and my mom
But I forgave him a few years ago
And with that..came unbelievable relief
And we now are friendly
Our parental relationships influence a lot in our lives
Very interesting question
My relationship with my parents is pretty good
my mom is very understanding and easy going...
However as a child my relationship with my dad was not good
he had a drinking problem and depression issues which he would take out on me and my mom
he has gotten better over the years and nicer ...
and of course it helps that I no longer live with them..
My parents weren't the warm fuzzy types. The complete opposite of these helicopter parents of today. I'm the 4th child so I think by the time I came around, parenting was old hat.
My father was never able to tell me he was proud of me but could say that to my husband. I can't recall him ever saying I love you. I know he did but it wasn't in his nature to say it. He died several years ago. I am very proud of him and his accomplishments.
Mom is alive and well in another state. We get a long well I think. Again, not real gushy but we both know how we feel about each other so that's all that matters.
I was blessed to have the most amazing parents. My mom was a single parent raising three children under the age of five when she met the man I called " Dad" until he passed almost a year ago. He had three children of his own that he had full custody of from age five to eleven. They married and we were a blended family. Somehow they managed to never make any of us kids feel like we weren't their biological children and hadn't been with them our entire lives after an adjustment period.
They managed everyday to find the time to spend time with each child. They were strict with the rules, yet never failed to tell us they loved us daily, encouraged us to excel at everything we did. They taught us that the most important thing was family, to have fun, life skills and work ethic. As we grew up and left for college and/or married, it was never unusual to be at our parents house 2-3 times a week. Only one sister moved to another state and the rest of us remained within twenty miles of our parents.
My dad got sick six years ago and we took turns alternating spending nights and almost every day we had free at their house. He was such a fighter and to the very end never failed to greet us with a smile and to us girls " Hey baby girl", my brothers were Mikey and John, John. We spent our time getting our minds whipped by the chess master and watching old family movies and John Wayne. Mom was a real trooper during those rough years. Although his body was whipped, his mind remained sharp.
Today we all remain extremely close to mom and one or two of us see her at least daily and speak to her on the phone every 1-2 days. She misses dad as much as we all do and is lost without him. She never fails to continue to tell us either in person, over the phone, text us or lol on Facebook how much she loves us and how proud she is of all of us.
I should have avoided this thread...
Sarcastic Coffee Aficionado
Both of my parents died at 69 years (ten years apart). Way too young.
My father was very artistic and shared with us the passions of music, fine arts and the creative love of words. He was a great dad when we were all young - under the teenage years. Once we formed our own opinion(s) that didn't align with his .... well, all hell broke loose. But those situations form who you are and make you learn how to handle adversity.
My mom ... well, I miss her each and every day. God .... she knew how to keep a secret. And she was always my personal cheerleader.
In turn .... I have tried to follow my mom's parenting/personal way with my children; encouraging their passions, celebrating their own personal accomplishments and telling them at every opportunity how much I love them. I never try to make my children prove their worth to me.
As TheSexyNun said ... a very interesting question and gives me something to feel #blessed about.
Van
I still love my parents, despite all the animosity between my father and me. We just can't be around each other (my dad and me), and stay sane. My twin sister and I were the textbook definition of sibling rivalry growing up, and my poor mother was always the one caught in the crossfire since dad was almost never around! She couldn't take sides, and she eventually withdrew and let us battle it out until my sister and I became mortal enemies. They finally had to physically separate us and send us to different schools. I was sent to live with my grandmother each summer from age 14 on, which is probably what saved my sanity. My dad was just never able to accept me for who I was, instead of what he thought I should be, so after I 'disappointed him' when I was almost 14, our relationship has been strained ever since.
I never met my father - he took off the moment he heard my mother was pregnant. I have not seen or heard of my mother for years. She put me in a boarding school and virtually forgot me.
I was very close to my mom. When we lost her it almost tore my family apart. My dad started seeing his neighbor who expected him to spend all his time with her. When she got sick, her family expected my dad to take care of her, which he did. After they put her in a nursing home, he was alone for a while, but now has moved my sister's mother-in-law in with him. They are all one big happy family. I am a guest when I go over there. I love my dad and miss being close to him. I would love to fix things, but I have no clue how.
Very strongly. We give each other a lot of grief, but I hurt myself when I hurt them. That probably reads as guilt. Or that I still love them even when I don't think I do.x
I almost forgot about my own question...
So first of all, my parents are overall great people and they've always been very supportive of me and my sister: treating us kindly, providing for us in many different ways (even though they weren't all that rich), making quite a few financial sacrifices for us, etc. When they separated (I was 6-year-old), my mother even bought a house just a block away from my father's house; I only had to cross one street to go visit my mother/father. At first, me and my sister lived 3 days with my mother, then 3 days with my father; my parents were very considerate of us that way (and in many other ways). So I can honestly say that I'm very grateful of my parents and that they'll always have a very special place in my heart.
Having said that, I just don't relate to them all that much (and vice versa). For some reason I've always been the black-sheep of the family: my parents and my sister have always been interested in pretty common stuff, whereas I've always had many peculiar interests (or at least they were considered as such within my own family). I was interested a lot in sciences/arts/culture/history growing up, whereas the rest of my family never ventured all that much intellectually/culturally speaking. And being the youngest of the family (my sister is 2 years older than me), I was 'in the wrong' by default and my interests have always been perceived as something odd rather than something to admire. It was pretty much a running gag in my family: "Look dad, he's going at it again! He was listening to Mozart earlier and now he's reading a textbook about economy!". You can imagine that I was therefore rarely sharing my passions/interests with them, and frankly, that might have contributed to the fact that I often keep a lot of things to myself even today.
And then in my 20s, I just got more and more eccentric: I studied in many different fields at university, hung out with a lot of weird people, didn't have much plans for the future (or at least not conventional ones)... my family just couldn't keep track of what the fuck I was up to. And I also had prolonged periods where I wasn't dating girls steadily (ie. stable girlfriends), so I was rarely presenting girls to my family and they likely questioned my sexuality. I'm pretty sure that my father thought that I was gay at some point... little did he know that I was having crazy sex with quite a few gorgeous fuckbuddies.
To this day, the same dynamics remain in my family: I'm the eccentric misfit and my sister is the admirable/successful one. Funnily enough, I'm the most educated/knowledgeable/healthy/fit member of my family (and probably the happiest too), whereas my sister constantly complains about her extra-weight, her daily schedule, and I also have reasons to believe that things aren't going all that well in her couple. But still, when I open up about my fitness regimens it's perceived as extremely abnormal within my family, whereas my parents were deeply enthusiastic when my sister bought a stationary bike for $150 (which she only used twice). Consequently, I rarely open up about the books I read, the museums I visit, the music I make, or my general life ambitions... my parents just wouldn't understand. And I certainly won't reveal to them what I'm doing here on LushStories, haha.
Despite all of this, my parents still often try to establish a connection with me. But that's not the kind of connection where they'd be truly appreciative of me, they simply want to supervise my life and show me the 'right path' (haha). Needless to say, it gets on my fucking nerves, especially since I stopped perceiving my parents as 'models' since I was around 13-year-old. More particularly, my mother has a very commanding personality (likely due to her Irish genes) and is deeply interested in all that spiritual/paranormal literature, so the least I open up about myself, she starts regurgitating all sorts of transcendental nonsense which simply makes me roll my eyes. There's barely any equitable dialogue with my parents; just a whole lot of derision and/or commands directed my way. I genuinely feel like an inadequate dimwit when I'm in my family.
I might sound very resentful about all of this. I am in a way, but I don't hold my parents responsible; I simply don't fit in my own family, that's just the way things are. And frankly at this point in my life, I really don't expect things to change and I'm rather accustomed to being independent anyway. I still profoundly love my parents (and I'm sure they love me too), but sadly we keep loving each others from quite a distance. And they only have a very vague idea about who I really am.
As the saying goes... we can't choose our family; thank God we can choose our friends.
My parents are amazingly fantastic people. They go out of their way to help others. If someone asks them to do something, they see it as an honor to help and will definitely come through! I love my parents and many others do too!
I am really lucky to have awesome parents. A lot of times though, I think Mom doesn't realize I'm grown up as she still tells me what I should be doing and she fusses at me for not calling or coming by enough. But I've been told that's just what Mom's do.
As a teenager I thought Dad was too tough and just a little overbearing sometimes, but in hindsight he was just doing what Dad's need to do. My relationship with Dad is better than ever. He often invites me up to play golf, go hunting or use his ski boat. Dad even calls me up to ask my opinion on some of his investment decisions and stuff.
I have a younger brother and sister. My brother now works for Dad in my Dad's business and has the perfect temperament for doing that. My sister is the youngest and probably the most spoiled, especially by Dad, but she's a great sister. She and Mom can have the best time spending hours together shopping or doing anything together really, they are very close.
So I was blessed to have great parents and a great family.
My parents are both dead. My dad died at 63 from lung cancer. No one came to his funeral but family and there were no tears. Justifiably so. He was an abusive SOB that terrorized his own family. I've spent my whole life trying hard to not be like him.
My mother was a victim with us and blossomed like a rose after his death. There were hundreds of people at my moms funeral. I delivered the message. It warmed my heart to see what a positive influence she was.
I discovered a lot about life in the contrast of their lives. We all die but can leave something positive behind.
i'm fortunate enough to have wonderful parents. they had me at very young ages and i got to see them make it to where they are today. my parents are my role models. i have a good relationship with both and am grateful for that. they've been my biggest fans since day one and i always strive to make them proud.
the relationship that i enjoy with them as an adult never ceases to amaze me. they never treat me like a child -but i know i'm their child. does that make sense? basically, i know they're always there for me. i never felt the pressure that some of my friends had with theirs in regard to getting married and having children. my parents encouraged me and my brothers to enjoy our time being young and single and i can't thank them enough for that.
Both of my parents were kind and caring people. I wish I'd gotten to know them a lot better when I was younger before it got too late. My father died at 59, 34 years ago. My mother died 10 years ago in her 70's.
"Hey, don't knock masturbation! It's sex with someone I love." Woody Allen
"I am willing to admit that I may not always be right, but I am never wrong." Samuel Goldwyn
My father died 11 years ago. I miss him terribly.
My mother is my best friend and we see each other for holidays and a few times a year. We talk several times a day.
She is the strongest, most loving person I know. She gives and gives and I will love her forever and a day.
Hugs,
Mysteria
I care about them; however, we're not terribly close.
My relationship with my parents has evolved over time.
For years I was super close with my mom, but after I had my son and two failed marriages, she seemed to get mean. Though she loves my son & my current husband, I feel she's pulled away from me. I'm not sure if it's because I moved away twice (once to a different city, once to a new state) or refused to whine about how shitty all men are. Maybe it's because I can see through her lies and bullshit.
I know my mom was adopted. This was never a secret. Her mom died three weeks after my son was born (a haunting memory for me) she called me the day before a completely disabling stroke to talk about my son who was a week old (seven days exactly.) I think this was why I had so much trouble accepting the truth that she was gone. It took a phone bill to prove my story was true. Sometimes I think my mom is angry with me for being the one who got to say goodbye. My mom sought out her birth family and found them (somewhat.) Though they are very nice people, they are not my family. They may share DNA with me, but they are not my family.
I was never close with my dad as a child. I saw him spending time with me out of court ordered obligation. I hated that. I wanted him to love me for me. All I ever heard was his criticism and complaints. Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. It was to the point that I just gave up.
Now, over the last fifteen years I've gotten much closer with my dad. My dad kept his distance due to my venom my mom spewed. Now that he and I are rebuilding our relationship, I think my mom is angry about this. Five years ago my dad lost his wife. It nearly destroyed him. I had to really be there for him. It's really brought us closer. Maybe my husband played a major role in this... I don't know.
I wish my mom & I had what we had. But for that to happen, she needs to let go of her anger and right now, I don't see that happening. I've tried reaching out to her but she's slapping my hand back (metaphorically speaking of course.) I can only hope it changes before it's too late, but it must be something she's willing to participate in.
I never knew my real father. I grew up with a step-father. He was a good man and respected. I left home at an early age and my mon and I seem to distant ourselves. My mom passed last year and now I wish we could have been more together. I have no conscience of guilt, but many springs passed without a laugh, then she passed.
I have the best parents in the world. Their only fault is that they have spoiled me. Yup, I'm an only child.
My parents divorced decades ago, & I spent years wishing I could've lived with my Dad, or at least split my time... As the younger sibling & the only male, I feel I missed out on having a male role model & so much else, especially since half the area asks if I'm related to him whether they know my last name or not.
We have each other's cell-phone numbers (I have a landline, but he doesn't), & I see him multiple times a month regardless. Ma drives me to every medical appointment, & literally insists on doing my dishes, even though we live in separate buildings.
Regardless, just last week, I told someone I feel they have preferred my sister in every imaginable way for decades, & it continues to this day. Right now, Ma & I had Lunch out after she helped me bring my groceries back (which she also took me to get), but I haven't talked to Dad or sister in several days (if not longer).
I don't know for sure how to categorize that, but that's the topic answer.
Both my parents are gone. I miss them everyday. While I could never understand why they raised me as they did they were true anchor of my life. When I got older even though they could not understand so many of my choices they never for one second did not let me know they loved me.
I shared about my relationship with my parents earlier.
The relationship I have with my son is great! We talk or text a lot. He's come to visit me several times since I moved. We've seen Wicked three times (his choice all three times). The best part is this... if I ever need his help, all I have to do is call and he's on his way to help as quickly as possible. I can count on him and he knows he can in turn, count on me.
His dad is a bit jealous of our relationship and I wish he'd just build his own relationship with him before it's too late. I worked hard to build a strong relationship with him and I don't regret it in the least.
My father died 20 years ago from bowel cancer, and I still miss him, and my mother died 2 years who from vascular dementia. The way I was brought up made me what I am today; I was given every opportunity and encouragement, the house was full of books, poetry and records (no CDs in those days), and every meal time was a conversation/discussion about many wide ranging subjects. The only thing missing was physical signs of affection - not that my parents didn't love me, they just weren't that kind of people.
I never knew my father. Mom raised me by herself and I've always been close to her. She tried to raise me to be a good girl. It mostly worked until I went off to college. She always avoided the subject when I asked about my father. After she saw I was turning into a slut my freshman year she told me I was just like her. I was the result of a gang bang and she never really knew who the father was.
Both my parents are dead. My mom passed away at 63, much to young, It took me many yrs to forgive her for something that no mother should ever do to there daughter. My real dad I had no use for, as he left while she was pregnant with me. He had nothing to do with my brother and I. Had a good step father(#4 stepfather) but let me mother get away with to much mean shit.
I miss them, but was not a good home for children.
