Most of us grow up thinking our parents are kinda lame. I don't know if that's how "it should be". But, it does feel right from the other side of 50 years old with my own children. Cool isn't the goal anymore. And, most of us realize, cool was never the right target.
But, sometimes a family member enters our world later than childhood and we understand the difference that cool makes. In my case, it was my Uncle Cecil. He was 15 years younger than my Dad. He blared Zeppelin and Neil Young from the basement of our house when he first moved to town. My Dad listened to Anne Murray and Gordon Lightfoot. My Mom listened to Elvis and rarely talked about her preferences.
In the moment, Cec seemed liked my anti-family. He was younger, in better shape and drove a fancy car. My Dad, was my dad. He was steady and boring and predictable. My Mom was always my Mom.
It is a weird feeling to think someone in your family is cool. It is a reality to navigate, and a tough lesson to learn. But, it wasn't real. Cecil is just my Dad with a bit of travel experience and the privilege to explore the world. Both my Dad and my Uncle Cecil are smart and tough and entirely focused on their families. There is always a hierarchy of birth order and time, but both placed their families before their own concerns, eventually.
This is where my Mom and my Aunty Glenda enter the picture. Neither are without fault - their taste in men is dubious for sure. Both are concerned with who you are, what you do and where you want to go. In other words, both are focused on you now, as you might be and as you are trying to become.
This is the phenomenal gift of motherhood. In different ways, my Mom and Glenda steered two grumpy, screamy and too often angry Dads towards love and understanding, and the opportunity to be connected, that a family provided.
And, I hope those of us who remain will take a deep breath and thank their sweet and angry Dads, and their kind and stalwart Moms for making the world a possibility more interesting and exciting than it would have been without this complex and complicated mix of family, love and history.
And, I hope each of us will centre those that gave us life, let us know love and cherished our steps and stumbles into the world of infancy, childhood, adolescence and adulthood, while grounding us forever in their hearts and wishes and the eternal maternal embrace of being our Mom.
Thank you Mom, always, and thank you Auntie Glenda. You are always the best of us.
We can never repay your gifts, but we will try to pass them along and remember you by them.
