It can be so easy to dwell on the challenges we face each day. It is far easier to remember the family member in the hospital, or the horrendous treatment of an abusive parent form long ago. WHy is that? Why is it that we ignore the kindness a stranger might give us , and only think about the challenge affecting our growth form the past? Is it because there needs to be resolution before we can move on and see those things? I submit that it may solely be because of that. Daunting events hanging around for three decades because my parents were idiots has me seeing this.

However that being said I would not want to completely forget them either. Without knowing how poorly my parents did and coming to terms with it I can not understand my own choices now. I can not see my own failures before they come and am at the whim of programming. Can a person do both? For some reason I struggle with this. I feel anger building up about not having teh 5 bedroom house in suburbia my children deserve, and focus on the minor imperfections of where we are now.  I strongly am suspicious that this was a programmed trait form my father. Everything to him was his fault and he attempted to carry the world on his shoulders failing time and time again... mainly because its impossible to do all of that on your own.

This summer I have made some important gains, My first issue nears completion which will begin the updates of this site, and make it available for print purchase. I am excited, but I dwell on where we are financially. Not because I need a new car, or wish there was a closet of new clothes, but because I see others having more material things than my own children, and remember the darker moments of my own childhood as a result. I connect having holes in my shoes with my son outgrowing his t-shirt collection, or getting hand me down used toys on Christmas with my daughter not having an iPad of her own. I know its not the same thing. I know they will never open a door and find me over dosing on meth, or video tapes of my parents escapades strewn about the house. I will never come home with yard bags filled with weed, or cook meth and get in high speed pursuits. I will never loose my job because I stole prescription meds and make it sound like I was assaulted. My wife will never have to doubt my behavior and wonder how many girl friends I currently have, and she will never have to throw me out because I brought the CPS to us. 

I am not that person, I never was, and never will be.

Does everyone fear becoming their parents like I do?