You Can't Get Candy from a Hardware Store

I have a dear friend who said trying to get love from her alcoholic mother as like trying to get candy from a hardware store. It just wasn’t there. Because of her disease, the woman’s mother was emotionally unavailable. And nothing was going to change that.

There is a man I know who is still trying to convince his father that he can make some-thing of himself despite his father’s misgivings. That fellow is still trying to prove him-self even though his father has been dead for over thirty years.

Another man, who was always the obedient son doing everything his father demanded of him, is struggling with the fact that he never talked to his father about what he missed out on growing up. As a boy, he never had a life beyond doing work around the house and other chores. When he asked permission to play sports, he was told he wasn’t working hard enough. Now the boy/man hates himself for never standing up to his father. He can’t force himself to face those long simmering issues that still prick at his subconscious. And he carries those issues with him like an anvil around his neck. Still trying to resolve why he cowered under the shadow of his domineering father.

There are a surprising number of adults who are still waiting for something from their parents. Whether it be love, approval, acceptance or recognition. But unfortunately, their parents never gave them what they needed or deserved growing up. And now it’s too late.

The generation before ours had a far different take on raising children than we did.  By my own crude calculations, their inability to communicate and show support for their kids is a hallmark for far too many parents of that generation.

Certainly the depression and the war and a multitude of other factors may have played into their inability to see their own children as something other than objects to “be seen and not heard.” But, unfortunately, their adult children are still waiting for something, anything, to show them that their parents cared. Something that will never come.

I was raised in a household totally devoid of love and affection. I realize now that if it wasn’t there, it wasn’t there. And no amount of wishful thinking or praying can ever bring it back. I am amazed at the number of folks my age who have experienced the same thing.

I guess the only way to heal that wound which can never be fully healed is through your own children and grandchildren. To make sure the missteps of your parents don’t affect your own bond with your adult children and grandchildren.

But it doesn’t end there.

The inexplicable demise of some past friendship or relationship can also leave a gash on your sensitivity that is difficult to heal. Of course everyone agrees that it’s all part of that wonderful yet confusing apparition called life. Whatever it was that we once shared was either lost or worse yet, just faded away. Of course, many of us expected our involvement with others to last forever or at least to be reciprocal. But life isn’t fair and friendships and relationships don’t always turn out the way we want them to. Or hoped they would.

It might have been like the avatar, who turned out to be just a bookend to the faint hopes of renewed acquaintances. Like a shooting star, she was in reality, just an illusion. Flash, bang, fade away.

It might have been some artificial environment, which almost by accident, threw a group of us together for some brief collection of memories and then dissipated as time and events pushed us apart and onto other milestones in our lives.

Reconnecting with old friends and acquaintances after an extended period of time can be very difficult. Out of my high school graduating class of 250, I’ve reconnected with just three old friends. I’ve tried several others but it just wasn’t there.

Of course, there are always exceptions.

On a recent trip to Maryland, I reconnected with an old friend after thirty-five years apart. We both worked at Maryland Public Television back in the 70s. I meet his wife for the first time and we shared a wonderful evening watching the sunset slide over the Naval Academy on the Severn River. We regaled one another with war stories from our PTV years and we did the obligatory “How I met my wife.” We shared our respective plans for retirement and agreed to continue writing to one another. I’m confident we will.

But that kind of renewal of an old acquaintance is rare.

So I guess if you can’t reconnect with those folks, then be grateful for the brief time spent together, perhaps the love embraced or friendship shared once upon a time. And realize that life does go on. Remember the good and the bad, the pleasure and the pain, forgive the sadness and move on with the memories. I embrace the sadness because that is a part of the equation. I hope I am a better man for it. I can only hope they feel the same way too.

What once was or wasn’t between our parents and ourselves is over. What was wrong can’t be made right. But it can be set aside. We all carry baggage from our past even when it contains some lighter moments along with the heavy ones too.

With my own kids and my grandchildren, I know it will be different. I can’t change my past but I can affect their future.

The circle is already broken.

It happened on my watch.