Three Things My Parents Did Right

This is from a group writing project over at Et Tu?. I don't often do this, but the topic struck me.. and I certainly didn't seem to be getting around to doing a post of my own topic any time soon. I did not pick out what I think are the three best things, or three most important things, or even three things that had a big impact on me personally. This is simply the first three things I thought of that, in my opinion, they did right. (If you want to join in, the deadline is coming up on Thursday.. that's this Thurs., the 11th).

My dad played games with us. We played the ABC game and word games constantly in the car whether on trips or the way home from school, we played board games while sitting around at home, we played card games wherever we happened to have a pack of cards, we played computer games (and learned how to program on his old computers) that were usually educational but always enjoyable, we played sports multiple times a week (he was always at our team practices and games, encouraged us to join in any and every sport, and spent hours of his time practicing and playing with us on his own), and even, eventually, joined in our games when my brother got an xbox and proved to be fairly decent competition. He gave me a love for every sort of game imaginable, a love that I have never lost, and that has been the source of much enjoyment on my own and of much use when dealing with all the children around me now. I learned how to win and lose gracefully, I learned to think in ways I never would have been taught in school, and I learned the value of just sitting around (or running around) enjoying the company during whatever activity we happen to settle upon. Through his games, he also showed me an enjoyment of life that, however childish, I have managed to carry on. And that is a wonderful thing.

My mom found time, despite working full time and caring for two increasingly difficult kids, to make whatever she could with her own hands. She gave us excellent homemade food year-round, and I find myself going back to her over and over now for her recipes, whether for the Christmas candies we made in abundance every winter, the pies she made all summer, or the baked goods we had filling our home all year. Someday I know I will also be going to her for her regular meals and dishes, when I have to provide food at my own house; and I hope I will also be turning to her for her breads and jam recipes. She always patched our clothes, sewed and resewed the arms and legs and noses of our stuffed animals (and made many herself to give to us), made us clothes and costumes in whatever pattern our hearts desired, and passed on the extra materials so we could make capes and bags out of the scraps. Most of our clothes were store-bought, but she kept our favorites in good repair, and I was always proud to have a mother who not only knew how but actually made matching clothes for my closest friends and I. Having entered into the Catholic world now, or at least the circles I've come into, this doesn't seem like such an odd thing, but it was strange and wonderful at the time. If these were not enough, she spent her free time outside, planting flowers on our balcony and later all around our house to make the outside look as nice and welcoming as possible, and kept up as much of a vegetable garden as space would allow. I never did catch her love of cooking/sewing/growing, but I can look back and see how wonderful it was to be around that, and I have something to aim for - if not to do it and love it as well as she did, then to know which parts I think are most important, and to try and instill at least those few into my own life away from home.

Both of my parents tried their best, in whatever way each knew how, to show their unconditional love for us and to let us find our own path in life. We were never pressed into any particular job or career, or even particular classes at school; whether we wanted to do AP classes or take only art electives, it was our choice. No change of future career goal was met with anything other than advice on what would skills and types of classes would be needed to get into it and how to start. If we became interested in a particular subject, we were given books and materials in order to continue with it. After years of continued interest in astronomy, I was given a telescope; when my brother and I, each at different times, became interested in music, we were given books and instruments and space and offered lessons. I was always encouraged to persue my love of theater, and of singing, and of writing and reading. When I wanted to draw, I was given sketch books and pencils. My dad helped my brother open a bookstore when he thought he might like to try running one - not by any means a small thing, even for such a small store. When I first showed a vague interest in what I thought was a necklace, my mom bought me a rosary for Christmas, despite not being Catholic herself. They wanted us to always be free to learn about anything and everything and to make our own decisions. They believed that we could do anything we set our minds to, and tried in every way they knew to make us believe it as well.