As children, we dream that our parents would tell us everything. But having matured, we look at their sudden frankness in a completely different way. Is it necessary to “be friends” with your parents and what is the risk?
“My daughter is my girlfriend,” I hear from friends who have raised worthy heirs. Or: «My son is the most reliable man in my environment.» It is truly a blessing to maintain a relationship with children, despite the storm of puberty, the drought of all expectations and the chronic mess on the table.
When there are no secrets with children, there is something to be proud of. And what a luck it is for children to get care with a hot dinner and devoted friendship at one address, when they are ready to insure you on the turns, soften the blows, disinterestedly share the joy of success.
But, as they say, years go by. And parents suddenly realize that with their daughter you can not only change outfits and discuss her boyfriends and a new diet, but also share the secret. Like, you know, my father and I are not so smooth. Or: call me urgently. Looks like your mother and I are getting a divorce.
On the one hand, the child is terribly proud. His authority in the eyes of his parents (at least one of them) has grown to the moon. It can be said that from that moment he finally ceased to be a child at all. He was thrown a beach ball of responsibility. No, decisions are not yet expected from him, there is no need to take sides yet. For now, they just tell him how difficult it is, this radiant life from his point of view.
Who else? They (children) said that they know better what happiness is and what is worth in this world. They asked not to interfere with advice — let them now advise something smart. They raised kind, smart, independent people, they already earn money, and they take their own children to the pool. They understand life — and not routine, like mom and dad, but a new one, with fresh lightweight rules, off-scale invariance, open endings. So listen to me, daughter! So I’ll tell you what, son…
We do not want to grow up — for no reason to go beyond the brackets of the model, where parents are older
My friend’s father wrote a memoir. Asked my daughter to edit.
No problem! If the memoirs were not full of daddy’s amorous adventures. «Daddy, I’m sorry. Find another editor. I don’t want to, ”said the daughter and was surprised at her reaction. It turns out that we are not ready, as the hero of the film «I’m walking through Moscow» said, for the truth of characters.
Parents, of course, have the right to crash the program. But not our parents. Ours are given as day and night in the only true form of conjugation — and it is stupid of them to dissuade us from this.
We do not want to grow up — for no reason to go beyond the brackets of the model, where they are older, and stand with them on the same rattling platform. We already have a lot of our bummers. We have half of the trailers under repair. We just go to you once a year to ground ourselves.
I remember when we lived in Ukraine, the lilac blossomed early and immediately, in early May. Somehow we knew about this particular day. Get up with dad at five in the morning. We walked for a long time towards the river. In the wild thickets they broke this lilac, carried it in armfuls, not seeing each other from these odorous clouds. Mom woke up — and it’s summer in the house! There is even a photograph.
And so every May. And I remember this lilac. And I don’t want to remember anything else. Do not bother me. Maybe I live because of this lilac. What will happen when winter comes? After all, parents are our last connection with Santa Claus …