Because I grew up knowing the right kind of loving. :)
I admire my parents. They love us so much; me and Arbee, but they never let that let them be selfish. They allow us to experience the world for ourselves. I know they worry a lot. One little physical example: I see the creases in between their eyebrows when we get home late. They ARE worrywarts. Mama can never sleep until she knows we are on the way home and that we’re being brought home by people she knows and trusts. Papa is more quiet about it, but there is still that occasional reprimand when he feels we aren’t at home much. I know they talk a lot about us. About the company we share. About the things we engage in. But again, they allow us to experience the world for ourselves. There is the right amount of shielding; of protection, so that we wouldn’t be harmed. There are rules. And I’m grateful those rules aren’t based solely on what would keep them comfortable.They take our desires into consideration. My parents give us the freedom to learn. They don’t judge things or people for us, they allow us to do that for ourselves. My parents know how to live, and they allow us to do so too. Of course there is more to it than this, than not being hindered to experience things, but this was what I have reflected largely on last night. No parents would wish their children ill (except those psychos of course). Parents want the best for their children. Parents want to be there, to protect/to nourish/to lead their children to the right path. But it would really take great parents to know that after teaching their children to get up and walk, they must find it in themselves to know that loving means letting their little ones develop wings and fly— and even fall, occasionally. And it will hurt. I believe there is no greater hurt than parents seeing their child fall. But this is all part of the child’s journey towards soaring. And soaring means knowing how it is to fall. Soaring means knowing how it is to be free.
I admire my parents because they love each other a lot. The kind of love that is fun, and deep, and old, and young at the same time. I am proud to say that my parents still act like young couples early on in the relationship. As I said, they talk a lot. Not just about us, but about everything! They still hold each other’s hand at the mall. I’ve grown up being vocal about my feelings– especially love, because my parents always tell each other of their love. I can’t help smiling when I see them doing separate crossword puzzles together. That’s their thing. Sometimes they’d just share one and argue about words. They tease each other. They fool around a lot. I always wake up to laughing and snickering and what have you. They are sweet to the point of my being embarrassed about it for them. HAHAHA. They are not perfect of course. We are not a perfect family. We get on each others nerves at times. Too often, some seasons hahaha. But my parents have a beautiful relationship. And we are happy.
To be continued. I am being called to eat now. Hehe.
Edit: I’M BAAAACK!
It’s very clear that brevity is not one of my best traits. I’ve been verbose again. So I will now end this post with a poem I dedicated to mama a long time ago. It’s by Brooke Mueller.
I’m leaving now to slay the foe-
Fight the battles high and low.
I’m leaving, Mother, hear me go!
Please wish me luck today.
I’ve grown my wings, I want to fly,
Seize my victories where they lie.
I’m going, Mom, but please don’t cry-
Just let me find my way.
I want to see and touch and hear,
Though there are dangers, there are fears.
I’ll smile my smiles and dry my tears-
Please let me speak my say.
I’m off to find my world, my dreams,
Carve my niche, sew my seams,
Remember, as I sail my streams-
I’ll love you all the way.