by Barbara D. Tooker 1994

It was probably prompted by watching the original version of Scrooge just as the girls were arriving to spend six days with us at Christmas.     “Baarrbaarra!    “Baarrbaarra!  Make amends for your rotten parenting! Maake ammmmennnndss!” kept crackling in my ears sporadically throughout the time the  kids  were home. Finally one night as I was settling into bed, The Voice came again. “Who are you?” I haltingly asked. “I’m Father Time’s cousin, Repent. You have scores of scores to settle.  It’s time for you to make amends.”   “How  do I do that?” I wondered.  “The girls look perfectly healthy to me.”  “Think againnnnn,” the scratchy voice of Repent cried.    “What’s to do?” I whined. “Do I feed them more?  Give them more hugs?  Tell them I’m sorry for not doing everything right?  Pay them off? Make them wear rose-colored glasses? Blame everything on their father?  Ignore the voice?”

“You’re a fraud!”  Repent kept repeating.  “This is what happens when you set yourself up as some kind of expert on parenting.  Now you’ll be found out! All that advice you dish out.  Admit it,  you blew it lots of times when you were raising those girls and now you’ve got to do something about it!”

Enough of this. “Tom, did you hear all that dribble?” I asked my husband as I poked his shoulder.  No response.  Out like a light.  This was just a figment of my imagination.  I’ll just toss it off and get some sleep.  This is what overwork does for you. Well, maybe just for grins, I’ll read a little inspirational poem before I go to sleep that will send Repent packing. I got up, felt my way into the study, and this is what I found:

FAMILIES

                                                            Families may be those

                                                            who have borne you

                                                            and families may be those

                                                            who have grown you

Families may be those

                                                            who have known you

                                                            But no matter what you do

                                                            real families

                                                            will never disown you. 

– Natasha Josefowitz, Natasha’s Words For Families

If that’s true, the girls would  never disown me for any of the rotten misparenting  Repent said I had perpetrated upon them.  Whew, what a relief!  I felt better already. But, just when I  – in my  cap – was settling down for a long winter’s nap,   The Voice struck again:   “Baarrbaarra!     Baarrbaarra!  Make ammends for your rotten parenting! Maake ammmmennnndss!”  

“Tom, did you hear that?” I asked nervously.  No response.  “Who’s there?” I whispered to the dark.    “It’s Guilt, another of the cousins. I’ve come to open your eyes.  You didn’t give much thought to what Repent told you. Maybe you had better think about what we’re saying.”   Oh, great!  Just what I need is to think about it.  Of course  I’ve thought about it.  What about all those dirty diapers I changed,   those tears I dried,  the clothes I made,  the torn ligaments and the cracked collar bone and rose bush poked through the skin and the bruised tailbone and the cracked ribs and the flight-for life helicopter nightmare, the wounded psyches,  the special places I took them,   the songs we sang,   the three-in-the-morning talks we had, the soccer and volleyball and skiing and basketball and tennis I watched them play, and the collect phone calls I accepted?    Was I going to buy into that guilt notion, or not?  After all, I did spank both of them when I thought they needed it.  But then  I was spanked, and look how I turned out!  On the other hand, what about being

a working mom? What about being gone a lot?  What about all those things I didn’t get around to teaching them before they left home?    How was the quality of the time when I was home with them? Oh, dear, now that I start thinking about it, I wonder if they’ll end up on the psychiatrist’s couch in their 30-something’s because of me?  Maybe I should start setting aside some money to help them pay for their visits. “You’re a fraud!”  Guilt kept grinding out. 

“This is what happens when you set yourself up as some kind of expert on parenting.  Now you’ll be found out! All that advice you dish out.  Admit it,  you blew it lots of times when you were raising those girls and now you’ve got to do something about it!”

Enough of this. “Tom, did you hear it this time?” I asked my husband as I poked his shoulder.  No response again. Still out like a light. What’s going on here?  Surely this is just a figment of my imagination. I’ve got to stop working so hard. This is ridiculous. Well, maybe I’d better go into the study and look for some additional assurances. Natasha was good, but maybe I should cap it off with an affirmation or two. I need to get Guilt off my back.   This is what I found:

            Families can be little laboratories where guilt is preserved through the generations – guilt for death or abandonment, blame for real or imagined snubs.  Many of us inherit such guilt:  “Your mother stole all our grandmother’s jewelry,” or “Your grandfather just left those kids.”  It has nothing to do with us or our lives, yet we accept it, so that guilt is always with us.

            Forgiving ourselves is a first step in any program of family healing.  To recover from guilt we must first give up the need for it, admitting we alone are responsible for our own acts.  We can make mistakes and learn from them. We can apologize and even atone, but guilt we haven’t earned and don’t need.  Let’s live in the present.

            THOUGHT FOR THE DAY:  I’m grateful for mistakes, because from them I can learn how to live better, but I’ll accept no guilt.

– Vanceburg &   Silverman, Family Feelings:  Daily Meditations for Healthy Relationships

What a great affirmation! Now I don’t have to should on myself anymore. Since it’s passed down through the generations, I can blame all this stuff on my ancestors. What a relief!  I feel better already. But, again, as I  in my kerchief and Tom in his cap were settling in for this long winter’s nap, I heard a tap-tapping insinuating itself into my consciousness: “Baarrbaarra!     Baarrbaarra!  Make ammends for your rotten parenting! Maake ammmmennnndss!”  “NOW WHAT?!!!” I shouted as I bolted upright.  “It’s Father Time himself,” said this quivery ageless voice from behind the bedroom sheet rock. “Do you know about sandwiches?  How about squeeze plays?  Hmmmm?”  “What does this have to do with me?” I squeaked, looking around the room to see where Tom had put the tape recorder.  The nerve he had to pull this kind of stunt.  It really wasn’t funny anymore.  

What was this sandwich thing he was mumbling about?

“You’ve got a lot of nerve blaming your failures on your parents and their parents before them! You aren’t learning your lessons so easily.  When are you going to realize that Time is of the essence?  I, Father Time, play the biggest gamble in the world with you.  I have the power to take you now.  How would you like to go with me right this minute? Hmmm?  Of course, you know where you’ll end up!” “No! No!” I’m not ready! Don’t take me now! I’ve got miles to go before I sleep!” I pleaded.   “Then get up and get going – I’ll not give you much of a reprieve unless you can prove you’re worthy of it. Stop wasting Time! I’ll be back, but you’ll never know exactly when, so get with it!”

I was out of bed like a flash.  Into the study.  Scramble for the books.  This is what I found:

            “I did not raise my children so that they can prove to me that they are

            completely put together.  There will be unevenness in growth, jagged

            edges, areas that need work and attention, but today I know that the

finished product is illusion.  My children will change and grow all of

            their lives and my job is not to finish them off but to have started them

            well – to have laid a foundation upon which a person can be built; to

            help them recognize and develop those qualities within that are unique

            to each of them and that are theirs to further develop; to help them to

            know their gifts; to teach them how to be both inside themselves and

            outside and then to create a safe space in which to grow.”

-adapted from Tian Dayton’s book, Daily Affirmations For Parents.

So, did I do this to the best of my abilities? Would I change things if I could go back and do it again knowing what I know now? Who wouldn’t! – but who can? All I know is I must go forward, remembering the lessons of the past.  I must make sure that I’m Ok with my kids, that I’m OK with my parents, and that I’m OK – at last –  with me. How do I do this?  I chuck out Repent, flip off Guilt, and work with Father Time to make the most of the rest of my life. I set about to be a role model for my children – not a perfect one, but a wise counselor and learned grandparent who doesn’t interfere with their children’s living of their own lives or who doesn’t live life vicariously through them. 

By the way, that “sandwich” thing Father Time mentioned? I think I just got it:  my parents are not perfect, but they are wise and learned counselors to me.  They don’t interfere in the living of our lives and they haven’t vicariously lived through us. This is the best legacy of their generational pass down to me.  I must strive to pass on this same baton to my daughters as Time looks on, watches, and waits, and – hopefully – smiles.  And I’d like to think he’s also blessed my teaching mission.  He knows I have things to give and lessons to pass along. He also knows I’m learning more and more every day.  Maybe I’m not such a fraud after all.  Maybe the Ghosts of Parenting Past will light the path along the  Present and not haunt the hallways of the Parenting Future. 

Word count:  1736

First published in the Country Review Magazine; December, 1994