i_bleed_life

The mediocrity that is me
2002-11-04 10:03:46 (UTC)

family and such

I hate to use a cliche, but it's true: you never really
miss something until its gone.

I called home today. I think when they drove me down to
UofA this August and left me here, went back to Glendale,
back "home", without me, we reached some sort of unspoken
agreement: I wouldn't call them everyday. They wouldn't
call me everyday. I needed to move on, as did they. No one
wants to live for their parents. No one wants their
parents to dictate their lives.

It's so strange. I know when I was living at home, my
parents and I Did Not Get Along. At All. Now it all seems
like a distant memory --- like that one where you were
five and you did that Really Embarrassing Thing, like ate
dog food or glue or didn't know where to run when you were
on the softball team and everyone was shouting "Run HOME",
and you thought they really wanted you to run to your
home --- but it's funny now, and your mother brings it up
with people who were there at the time and you all laugh
about what a naive little kid you were for hours.

Now I call, and it's weird because we actually get along.
They don't pry into my life. I'm not being a snotty little
brat. And I know you're going to want to hit me, but I
honestly do miss my family, to the point where it's
actually going to be nice to see my little sisters again.

You know, it's really sad, but the entire time I lived at
home, I never thought of my parents as "people", in the
sense that they're falliable and imperfect and, well ---
human. No, wait, that's not entirely true. I realized that
they were human. I think the problem was that I didn't
care. I still held them up to those standards in the "How
to Raise Your Child" books written by childless adults. I
never really allowed them to have a bad day, to just yell
at me or whatever for no reason. Don't get me wrong, I
really did --- and do --- appreciate everything my parents
have done for me. I just never wanted to think of them as
people. Everyone wants their parents to be perfect, and
let's face it. They're not any more perfect than their
children.

And that's rather frightening. Everyone expects these
parents to be perfect, the parents themselves think they
have to be perfect, and, honestly, they're not. I'm not
sure if my relationship with my parents would have been
better if I had real