Summer Vacation – independence, co-dependence and bubblewrap – Day 12

You may (or may not know) that I write a monthly column for The Imperfect Parent (I know, they are being extremely generous!) and my topic for this month’s article is the fact that my brother and I spoke another language before learning English in school, even though I was born here in America.

And it was not as uncommon, as you would perhaps believe, now as it was in the seventies.

In fact, there are a lot of things that are done differently today – especially when it comes to raising children – perhaps, as it should be.

Unfortunately, as most parents already know…somethings never change…and the best we can hope for is that our children accept the fact that we (especially parents) are not perfect and (more importantly) pray that they learn from their mistakes, as well as ours.

For example, it took me a very long time to understand (let alone, admit) the fact that my parents’ happiness has always – and I mean ALWAYS – depended upon the happiness of their children.

A huge burden for my brother and me, quite frankly.

Sounds awful, I know – how could I ever question such an honest, loving and unselfish way of being?!?

Well, suffice it to say that my brother and I have made our share of sacrifices, as well.

And as adults – though, there is no end to the love we feel for our parents – their dependency on our big happy family can be very trying on my relationship with my brother, as well as our relationship with our spouses…to be sure.

Here’s the thing.

My brother invited us (and my parents) to his house for the 4th of July and my gut reaction was to….screen his call.

With that said – and as awful as it still sounds - I was surprised to hear my husband – who absolutely adores my brother, btw – say, “WTF…is your problem?”

And I didn’t speak to him the rest of the morning.

What is my problem?

I didn’t think I had one.

Until, we got to my brother’s house and I quickly realized one thing – I am my worst enemy and that I was not happy, unless there was something that needed to be fixed.

Okay, maybe that’s two things – but, what’s up with that?

To make a long story short, we had a great time – DUH! – and my brother is probably one of the most happy, laid-back, un-troubled, no-nonsense people I know.

Being around him – and spending the whole day, together – was like a breath of fresh air.

And then my father started to cry.

“OMG…what’s the matter?”

My father just shook his head.

“No, really…Apu…what’s bothering you?”

He wiped his eyes and slowly looked around the room.

“Nothing…seeing you and your brother together…I’m just happy…and that’s all I ever want!”

It took a while for his words to sink in – and then the goosebumps hit – along with the realization that my parents weren’t as dependent as I thought they are and were merely exercising their right to enjoy a little happiness.  And what better way to do it, than through their children’s eyes…on Independence Day!?!

So - as the fireworks burst and the warm wind wreaked havoc with my bangs - I allowed the spirit of freedom and the joy of being in the company of some of the most important people in my life to live…as one…and hopefully be able to finally make peace with my sometimes obsessive-compulsive personality – as will my children – knock on wood.

[conking on head]

Because…according to my husband…it’s pretty crowded in here, already.

But – as Mini-Me is quickly willing to prove my point – there’s always room for bubble wrap!