Quote:
Originally Posted by CaptainCrunch
Its funny, because years later you can sit down with your old man over a beer and you can honestly laugh at it, and my old man for example laughed at some of the incredibly stupid things that I did, or better yet some of the plans that I thought I would get away with.
I didn't understand it at the time, and there was a long period of time when I didn't talk to him at all, in fact I joined the military to spite him.
But the one thing that he did tell me, and I've stated it before. He was never there to be my friend, he was my father first, he was there to make me a better and more respectable person. He was there to guide me, and put me on a path where I could succeed, and I would have the toughness to push through any situation instead of throwing my hands up and quitting.
His rules, and the way he handled me taught me that there were no shortcuts, to think about what I was doing and to do the right thing. To fight for what I believe in, and to be somewhat hard headed when I thought I was doing the right thing.
That's not to say that my old man was a sergeant Hartman character when I was growing up. There were lots of good memories. There were camping trips that were so terrible that we can laugh about it now. He taught me to play chess, he tried to help me with math, but at some point I realized that he was not a math natural. And while he kicked my a$$ over poor grades (The whole if you were ######ed I would be proud of your marks comment comes to mind) but he was also so proud when I got my degree even though we weren't talking at the time that he cried.
He was aggravating and stone faced, and somewhat forceful when I was growing up and he let me take risks and learn for myself when I was growing up. He was a man that you just didn't cross.
But now he's a great friend and a sounding board, and he still beats me up over some of the stupid things that I do.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.
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I didn't join the military in spite of my old man, but I went through a long period of non communication with my parents as well when I left home. It wasn't on good terms though, as me and my dad ended my home stay with a fist fight in the back yard. I decided it was time to stand my ground with him when I was 17, and it was probably the only time I was justified in fighting back. I would say I "won" the fight from a who beat up who perspective, but it damaged our relationship for years, and felt like the biggest loser ever for doing it. Even he admits, he was a little too hard with me to this day, but with my behavioral issues as a kid, he didn't know what else to do, as I couldn't be reasoned with. However leaving home that young and being forced to survive on my own, was the best thing that happened to me, and I look back on it now as a godsend. I didn't have time to live under my parents roof scheming up diabolicle plans on their dime, putting food on the table and paying rent was first and foremost, priorities changed.... fast.
When my sister died in 1995, my parents ended up taking full guardianship of her kids full time. Neither father was remotely capable of raising two children at the time, so at 55 (dad) and 48 (mom) they were once again full time parents to a 5 year old and 2 year old.... a massive responsibility for people that should be looking at retirement. I promised at that time I would bury the hatchet with my dad, and never bring up the stuff from the past. Only to support and help my folks any way I possibly could.
Well now, the old man is 70, my mom is 63. One kid is a musical prodigy attending Manhattan School of Music, and the other is going to be going to university next year. They raised the kids in a much more modern fashion than myself and my sister, with no corporal style punishments. They are good kids but a little too spoiled, and very useless in real world stuff, as they were waited on hand and foot, since my mom pretty much quit work to raise them. After all of that though, all I can say of my folks is that regardless of some bad decisions they made raising myself, the are super hero parents to do what they did, and give up 15 years of their retirement to make sure my neice and nephew turned out right. I can be a little envious at times, as a couple kids being raised by millionaire grand parents is a far cry ffrom what I had, but I wouldn't have my childhood any other way. In today's era, where kids control their parents, knowing how I was then, I would have exploited the crap out of them, and probably turned out to be some sort of criminal mastermind. Hard justice was what I needed, and thank god it wasn't frowned upon by society when I was a kid.
There really is no right or wrong way to do it as a parent in my opinion, you just have to adapt with the times, and go with the flow. But sometimes when I see some punk mouthing off his mom, or some little bitch snapping at her dad in front of me because the new convertible he just bought her is the wrong colour, I do think,"What is wrong with young people? If I had done that I would have been smacked in the mouth, and then be in more trouble for bleeding on the floor." Times have changed, I don't neccesarily think beating your kids is the answer, but young people nowadays are too coddled and have too much freedom. Things have swung too far the other way.
Now me and my dad are best pals. Like Captains dad, we look back at some of the things and laugh at how careless we were. I can curse without getting smacked on the back of the head. And I drive when we go places, as he begrudgingly admits his driving skills aren't where they were. I find my folks more often coming to me for advice on stuff now, which admittedly seems weird. With my dad, it is neat in his later years, seeing a more vulnerable side of this guy that seemed like this invincible superhero like guy in the past. One thing that is always there, is the jokes. In thick or thin humour is/was always the outlet, he is one of the funniest people I'll ever know.
The bad memories, I kept my vow of never bringing them up with him, and I think he is glad for it. He earned a free pass by making it right with his grand kids, and never once laid a finger on them. Now when he tells me he is proud of something I did, or that he loves me, it means a ton to me. Albeit that is always uber akward for both of us, and always ends in some dumb comment like "So is that a 351 or a 454 big block?" to re-man the situation and loofa off the suckiness. In return, I always tell my folks how amazing they are for what they did for their grand kids.