One of the hardest struggles is loving your adult child in your way and being interpreted by him/her in his/her own way. You struggle to keep them safe from the moment that they are conceived. Words of apology, even when you are not wrong, are said over and over like words fading into the mist. Sometimes, they are heard; most times, they are dismissed like so much air.
We do not stop loving our children no matter how old they are. The problem is that despite trying to create a positive and loving relationship, your love doesn’t seem to be as unconditional in another’s interpretation of the word. Semantics are in play — words are all we have to communicate with — and yet Noah Webster would be hard-pressed to come up with the right ones to soothe.
If we stopped speaking to everyone we loved, but disagreed with, no one would be married longer than a week. Loving and committing ourselves to someone means that we continue to try to communicate, comfort, or converse, even when we disagree or have beliefs that are different. Each person goes as far as they can with an idea or ideal. Sadly, there are instances where we behave badly. Yet, our human nature is to replay the bad ones and forget the millions of good ones. Each repetition of pain with a loved one, magnifies, enhances, and embellishes the anger in our mind. Our limits are different and therefore we each do as much as we can in creating strong relationships.
So many feel that they are not loved as they want to be. Perhaps, it is the massive amounts of media at our fingertips, and the talented scriptwriters, with actors who behave as directed, that leads us to believe in perfectly conceived happy endings. Every magical word is heard and observed and the healing begins.
As a parent, I still disappoint my children. When I was growing up, I sought not to disappoint my parents. Our societal demands and personal expectations have changed.
Someone else’s parents “really know” how to be better, more loving, more supportive, and encouraging. Of course, that degree of separation also makes for less psychological baggage and long-term accumulated psychic wounds.
We are so easily wounded because our hearts remain open to our children always and they seem to have the barbs to repeatedly pierce them. Yet, we keep trying, no matter how long we are here to make a difference, convince them otherwise, express that our love is wide, deep, and consuming, while assuring that we are here, and always at a distance.
I am glad that my children find comfort in their adult connections and am happy that they have found those people who love them in the precise manner that they desire to be loved. Someday, I hope I will be a member of that group.
Thank you for stopping by. Please feel free to add your experiences or thoughts. It means more than you know.