Parent or Participant
In fact, the children in my household were fortunate to have many rights. We had the right to not speak when we were being spoken to. We had the right to obey our elders. We had the right to attend school and actually be able to tell what we learned for the day. We had the right to be good citizens no matter where we were. My favorite was always the right to not get slapped into the middle of next week. I can remember my mom telling me that and I believed her, unequivocally. I could imagine myself staggering into existent a week later with her hand print still nailed to my frontal lobe.
For me, my mother was the one I feared more than death; because she held it in the palm of her hands. I was scared to breathe for fear that it may have been the last breath I took. My father, on the other-hand, kept me disciplined without ever really having to do anything at all. I was daddy’s little girl and couldn’t fathom ever giving him a reason to have to raise his voice. I’m not saying I succeeded 100% but I did avoid his wrath on most occasions. I think the balance of my mom’s army tactics and my father’s sensitivity to his little girl worked out well. I reaped the benefits of being raised by two parents who cared about my well-being more than they did being my chum.
Back in the day, my parents knew where to draw the line between friendship and parenting. There main goal in life was not to be seen as the coolest parents on the block or the mother/father who hung out in teenage circles condoning sex, booze and gang-banging. I had parents who were respected for honoring their children by seeing to it that we had a roof over our head, clothes on our backs and food to eat. As a child, I didn’t always respect or understand the importance of the values my parents set out to instill in me. As an adult, I am eternally grateful for a strong man and woman who knew one day I would be on my own and would need a strong backbone to survive.
Had my mom allowed me to cuddle up in her kindness and become “loose,” I am certain I wouldn’t be the woman and parent I am today. I may have never learned the qualities of how to be a woman in a world where women have lost many of the traits associated with femininity. In addition, had my father not shown me his friendship, without jeopardizing his role as parent, I wouldn’t understand how to rear my own children, while showing them the dedication of a true friendâÂ?¦one who doesn’t tell you what you want to hear but what you need to. More value was placed on parenting than participating in spelling out my demise in life.
I understand why the saying “we fall down but we get up” exists. Although I’ve had and still have my moments of amnesia, momentarily straying from what I know; it is their voices which lure me back to the positive path they’ve paved for me. I couldn’t imagine having parents other than the ones I was blessed with. Outside of God, my parents have forever represented my strength. Operating not out of selfishness but selflessness, they taught me what it means to truly love your children. I understand things now that, back then, seemed far-fetched and unfair. I took a licking but kept on ticking. I wouldn’t change anything about my upbringing, because the life I’ve lived was intended solely for me.
I urge children and parents alike to give their loved ones flowers while they are still here, because tomorrow is certainly not
promised to us. Though death took my father away, I am certain that my siblings can all look back and admire him for who he was. No matter how hard the blow, it took sternness to get us through the days of old. I respected my father in his lifetime and will always remember his dedication to his children. Leaving my mother to pick up the pace in her children’s adulthood, my father would certainly be proud of the awesome job she has done.
