The parent appreciation thread.

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

In light of this thread, I wanted to start one extolling the wonderfulness of my parents. My parents, simply stated, rock (one of my highest compliments, dontchaknow.)

Reading all the things people resented or rebelled against after leaving the shelter of their parents home, I found myself nodding to many (liver <blech>, Coca~Cola is not just for special occasions and I’ll have my dinner at the coffee table, watching TV, thanks), but on the whole, I found myself thinking how much I still am my parents son as I close in on 30.

Sure, we had a curfew, but it was reasonable (11pm on school nights in HS, 1-ish on weekends unless we called.) We had to eat what was on out plate, but the forced serving stopped around the time I hit double digits, and I was allowed to leave the table (or not even sit down) when they had fish after I threw-up at the age of 8 from it. In the later years of HS and in college, I was allowed to drink, since they knew I was going to anyway and they would rather I did it where there knew I would be okay than in some parking lot somewhere or at a friends then have to drive home. Friends were allowed to as well, but they weren’t allowed to drive home afterwards. My father got me a keg for HS graduation, though he rarely (read: almost never) drinks.

My parents were permissive without letting us walk all over them. They had rules and they enforced them. They set guidelines for proper nutrition, cleanliness and conduct and I would like to think that I still hold to most of them. Although I do not want children, if I ever do have them, heck, even if I don’t, my greatest wish is to be like my parents: my father is one of my hero’s and my mother gives so much support it is simply amazing.

I know they won’t read this, since they are retired and on their way back from Alaska after motor-homing around up there for the last 2.5 months, but it’s something I wanted to share, regardless. My parents rock and I love them for everything they are and that they have done.

2

Your parents sound great & you seem like you’ve turned out pretty good! I hope my boys talk about me like that someday!!!

3

My parents are fine people, and I’d never trade them for anything. Well, I might sell them to the Arabs for a chance to Gillian Anderson what a great lay I am, but that’s about it. :wink:

They’ve always treated me like the intelligent and capable guy I am, even when I was too young to expect it. On the other hand, they didn’t take any sh!t from me when I was growing up, and were able to say “enough is enough.” When I accomplished something, they’d show their pride – but they didn’t fawn all over me to give me that false self-esteem that seems to be the popular parenting method today. They always talked TO me, not AT me, and conversation was always the norm.

They put up with my mood swings, depressions and school phobia with as much good grace as could be expected. They didn’t cram religion down my throat, even as a little child – I had already made up my mind that it was crap by the age of 4, and they didn’t try to sway my views. I still had to participate in some things, since it’s part of my culture, but I never minded that.

They paid for my college education, just to be sure I concentrated on school as opposed to work AND school. When I hurt my back many years later and couldn’t work, they let me move back in with them. I lived with them for over three years as an adult, until I was (a) back in the work force and (b) could afford an apartment.

The wonder of Mom and Dad extends beyond me, of course. Through their time together they’ve put up with a lot of sh!t from life, and have had to do without some things that our more cut-throat relatives have. My folks have integrity. They do the right thing because it’s right, and they don’t do the wrong thing just because they can. They’re almost universally respected by everybody who knows them. They know how to cut ties with people they don’t wish to know also – mom and dad don’t appreciate being trod upon.

They have supported my larely-useless eldest brother all his 38 years, but have always tried to get him to take care of himself (he can’t for the most part, but they try). When his leg problems flare up so he can’t walk or get to the bathroom, for example, they cater to him with as much grace as could be expected. They push him to better himself, and support his accomplishments fully.

Over the years, they’ve become as much my friends as my parents. Granted, I’m only closing in on 30, but it’s been a good run so far. I want to be like them, which is good because I am already. When I win the lottery, I’m giving them half. If that doesn’t happen, then I’ll take care of them all their days in the best manner I can. Unless I get the aforementioned shot with Gillian Anderson, of course.

4

Yeah, I forgot to mention that: my parents paid for my first 3 years of college and were shocked and amazed when I told them I would pay for the last 2.5 after joining the Marines (which also shocked and amazed them, though they outwardly showed support.) They paid for my sisters repeated attempts at college and bought her a car, a Trans Am, as a “carrot” to dangle in front of her to try and entice her to continue her education. That failing, they did what they could and continued to support her through her times-of-trial.

They took us on trips across America and to visit family in Holland every coupla’ years, more often, really. We weren’t rich, more middle-class so the money was tight-ish, but they wanted us to see the country (and I’m sure they wanted to, as well.) Prob’ly where my love of road-trips comes from.

Though my father and I never did the whole “ball and glove” thing, we can toss a Frisbee a country mile and I’ve known how to run a plunge-router, planer, drill-press and radial-arm saw since I was 10. I know how to cook, clean and sew because my mother showed me the inherent value of learning those skills, rather than just telling me to do them or taking care of everything herself.

5

One of my earliest memories is going to the barber for the first time. “How do you want it?” the chap asked of my father. “Ask him, it’s his hair.”

They always gave choices, within sensible (and explained) constraints.

They encouraged me to develop autonomy, and that’s what I like most about myself now.

6

I wish I could say stuff like that about my parents. They gave me food, clothes, and shelter but they were also very controlling and since I’m a free spirit and a rebel we didn’t mesh well. This isn’t the thread to drag up all my unhappy memories so I’ll just say that I hope my parents will be proud of me someday in spite of the “mistakes” they think I’ve made. I also hope my kids speak as well of me as you do of your parents thinksnow. That truly the sign of great parents!

7

my parents rule.

Mom
Mom and Dad divorced when I was 12. Although she had every right to be bitter and angry (Dad cheated on her with the buxom, next-door-neighbor who was 15 years younger than him), she did her level best to keep her mouth shut about what a s*** my Dad had been to her.

She did everything she could to provide us the necessaries, even when money was tight, which it was frequently since Dad could never pay his child support (self-employed carpenter) and Mom only made secretary wages.

Our curfew was 11:00 unless we called and requested more time. I remember she even came and picked me up from a party at 2:00 a.m. after my ride wanted to stay longer and she wanted me home. She trusted me totally: I never felt that I had to do things under her nose, no sneaking out, none of the “I’m going to the library but actually going over to a guy’s house” stuff. We knew that trust was a gift.

We never got an allowance, but she’d do her best to give us money whenever we needed it for movies, dinner with friends, whatever. She also somehow managed to send my sister and I to Horsemanship Camp at a summer camp up north for two years in a row when I entered high school. We knew it was a special thing - Mom used to worry herself literally sick about money.

As she’s gotten more financially stable and independent in the last 10 years, she has been generous far beyond anything I ever could’ve wanted. Every time I see her, she say’s, “Oh, I was out and saw X and thought you’d like it.” Usually it’s just a pair of shorts or a basket for the house, but she’s always thinking of me and my sister.

DAD
Dad, despite his shabby treatment of Mom re: the divorce, was and is a wonderful man. He never spoke of her with less than kind and respectful words.

He wouldn’t “do” things for us, but he’d teach us how to do them ourselves. Hence, like think, I can do a lot of things like change my sparkplugs, give my car a tune-up, install an electrical outlet, ceiling fan or light fixture and a multiple of others. He had my sister and I up on the roof of our Dayton house “helping” him roof it when we were 3 and 5, respectively. (It was only a 3/12 pitch or something equally small and yes, mom was freaking out.) He taught both my sister and I how to shoot, how to skin a deer, how to drive the tractor. We were never given a break because we were “girls” and I appreciate that fact. To this day, there is nothing that gets my hackles raised faster than for someone to tell me that I can’t do something because I’m a “girl”. Dad encouraged us to always try and failure was more acceptable than not trying at all. Not trying was the failure.

His famous words on how to spell something were, “Look it up, here’s the dictionary”. He’s a teacher, above all things, and still has an inquiring and curious mind at the age of 59.

He didn’t give us things, he gave us experience, which is worth far more than anything I could’ve asked for. He taught us the value of a job done right the first time, honesty in all your dealings, and a low tolerance for fools. I’ll talk to my Dad about things I wouldn’t dare talk with my Mom about. One wonderful thing he taught my sister and I was the beauty of the human body, regardless of shape or size, and how to love what we’ve been given - he always told us how beautiful we were and how proud he was of us as women and people.

I find myself using his phrases all the time[ul]
[li]There’s no such thing as “men’s work” or “women’s work”, there’s only work[/li][li] Close don’t count 'cept in horseshoes and handgrenades[/li][li] Jump up, frog! (when my sister or I’d get mouthy)[/li][li] and tons more that have slipped through my mind[/ul][/li]
And for those lucky people planning on attending next summers Michigan Dopapalooza, you’ll get to meet him.

8

My parents are great.

My mom encouraged me to read anything and everything. She taught me to love words and word games. She made me think school was important and teachers were great people. She respected my persnickety individuality, even when it made me a total pain in the ass. She endured my scorn and moodiness during those awful teenage years. She kept me from being overly caught up in superficial things.

My dad gave me his sense of humor. He encouraged my curiosity and let me do all kinds of things with him, from painting to throwing pots to going on architectural digs. He taught me the value of getting along with everyone (although I can’t say I’m any good at that). He took me everywhere with him. He did a lot around the house, helping me to realize that chores don’t get assigned by gender.

Both of them: made me feel like my accomplishments mattered, took me on great vacations (camping, following the Oregon trail), sent me to private college when that is what I wanted even though they’re nowhere near rich, helped me during the first years of grad school, never compared my sister and me (we’re very different, but they never made that seem like a bad thing), taught me the joy of doing things for yourself like gardening and remodeling, and made me feel respected, loved, and important. And they had a pretty good marriage, which has ended up being something of a gift to me IMHO. And they are awesome, awesome grandparents.

9

My parents were awesome. Sadly, they are both gone. Today is the anniversary of my dad’s death, an extremely hard day for me as I was the ultra daddy’s girl.

Mom and dad were older than most of my friend’s parents. They had five kids, one severely handicapped who passed away when he was six. My dad never recovered from that loss.

The four remaining kids, three girls and a boy never did without anything. I can remember when my mom had only three outfits, and dad had just a few more because he worked outside the home. Money was tight for a lot of years, but they made sure their kids never went without, and we didn’t. We always had a great new outfit for the first day of school and a month long summer vacation together as a family where we camped in B.C. along the Schuwap.

They loved, nurtured and met every need we had. Not one of us ever went to play in a ball game, dance in a dance recital, or had any event where at least one tho most often both of them attended.

Our whole family were big readers, encouraged by my parents when we were young. We all did well in school and some of my friends were shocked when they would drop by and dad would be sitting at the kitchen table helping us with out homework. We all have our quirks, and the four of us are very different from each other, but we all turned out pretty well in my opinion.

Don’t get me wrong, life wasn’t a total cakewalk. Dad was a total softy while mom was incredibly strict with us. She was only 4’10 but when she roared, we listened and quick.

The first time my mom got breast cancer, in 1968, dad held the fort, looking after the four of us and dealing with the prospect of losing his wife. His strength amazed me as did mom’s. In what seemed no time, she was back home barking orders which was a great sound to us. They would have been married 47 years this year.

10

I too have amazing parents, so I must gush.

Mom

A beautiful, funny, caring woman who I never heard say anything bad about anybody while I was growing up, nor did I ever hear her & my dad fight or argue. She hated swearing, but it wasn’t until I had a child of my own that I found out it was because of the day I said “shit” repeatedly to her mother-in-law when I was two! Yes, guess who I’d heard it from.

My mom is the most thoughtful person I know. When there is a birth, death, celebration or tragedy, she is right there with a card, a cute gift, a shoulder or a hug. She was always supportive of my brother & I, regardless of our transgressions, which in my case were innumerable.

Dad

A true Renaissance man. Loves camping, country music, scuba diving, underwater photography, handbells, singing in the church choir, art, language, surfing and suntanning. Encouraged me to read at a very young age and shared his books with me, so I was reading science fiction, spy novels and adventure stories when other kids were still on Dick & Jane. He has always had a thirst for learning and sent me to college, and was ok when I couldn’t continue because he too had to leave before his degree (which I didn’t know 'till later). When it became painfully apparent that I was an alcoholic and a drug addict, he put aside his rather significant prejudices and educated himself, becoming a vocal supporter of my recovery and that of others. He is always looking to learn more.

And he is teaching my not-quite-two year old son to love the ocean and respect it, and nothing is cuter than seeing a toddler and his grandpa playing in the surf.

I would not trade my parents for anyone else, for any price. I wrote my dad a letter on his birthday this year, to make sure he knew exactly how I felt and how much I respect and love him, as we aren’t that demonstrative normally. I wanted to be sure that I didn’t have anything left unsaid. Not that he’s going anywhere, but I can’t imagine anything worse than feeling as if I’d not told him enough that I love him.

11

Can I add a quick grandfather gush?

My grandpa was the most honest, loving man I have ever met. Integrity was so important to him, as well as character.

He would conduct business with a handshake, because if he was going into an agreement with you, that meant he trusted you. When he was younger (my dad was young then), his business was in trouble and the threat of bankruptcy was very real, which would have just destroyed him. He went to his creditors and explained that the only way for him to do the right thing and pay them back with interest was to keep working, which meant he’d have to go in even deeper with them. Instead of responding as a company might today (screw you, jack), his major creditor believed in him, extended more credit, and within 1 year all his debts were paid, and that business is still going strong today, years after his death.

You have to be a special person for your creditors to believe enough in you to give you money, for even people who don’t like you to respect you, and to have left a legacy that says honesty, integrity & character are the most important things a man can possess.