I went through that at age 37, when my father died. My mother had died about 3 years earlier. Those losses were HARD. But life goes on, we do the best we can, and it’s an opportunity to become more like we are meant to be.
My parents are both very nice people, and I have had multiple people tell me that they wish their parents were as nice as mine. But they do have frustrating blind spots (like everyone), so we sometimes have conflict. Still, I not only love them dearly, but I like them, too.
My paternal grandma wasn’t nice in the “sweet” sense, but she was clear and fair. Rules would always be explained (my whole family has that “can’t follow orders I don’t understand” gene); if you made a mistake because you didn’t know better she wouldn’t get mad, she’d explain. Most rules boiled down to “think of how your actions affect others and act in consequence”. If you did something right, she’d say “well done” and specify: “well done, you set the table real pretty”; “well done, you remembered everybody’s favorite glasses”; “well done! That was a great play!”.
She also made books and games available. In her house there were several rooms full of books; she placed those for lower ages closer to the floor. We had our own room to play in, and we were supposed to stay there, but little children could stay in the living room so long as we played or read quietly. She was also one of those grown-ups of whom you can ask questions and, again so long as you follow the rules (no interrupting!) they’d be answered. For example: many grown-ups, if we asked “what does XYZ mean?” would send us to the dictionary; she’d either answer directly or grab the dictionary herself and look it up with us. And we were allowed to play with the out-of-tune piano so long as we didn’t bang on it (I can’t say we “played it”, as none of us knew how).
When we were at the pool, our family group was usually the largest, so we’d acquire more additional kids. Her “is anybody bleeding?” in response to a child yelling for adult help was therefore acquired not just by us, but by a lot of other children. For someone who officially “wasn’t particularly sweet on kids”, she sure had a positive effect in a lot of children’s lives!
Good for you! You sound like the sane conclusion to an insane childhood experience.
At least, that’s my impression, given how little I know you.
All the best to you.
My father was actually too nice. My mother was a mean and hateful bitch who was not happy unless she was making someone else miserable, except even then she wasn’t exactly happy, because she had no capacity for happiness. She drove him to an early death.
My parents were. . .functional. Well, my father left when I was two, so I have no idea what he would have been like, but my stepfather was adequate. He smoked, and he drank a lot, but he always came home after work. We went fishing a few times, but he wasn’t much for doing things. My mother grew up during the depression, and it never let go of her. She had little sentimentality for things, but was loving in her own way. They gave me a lot of rope; too much when I was a teen, and way too much when it came to school work. I had whatever I needed and never felt neglected. When they died, I was saddened, but not devastated.
My mother was abusive, but only to me, and my father ignored all five of us, especially me. The only good thing my mother ever did was not ever act once like she even liked me. The fiercest battle I remember my parents having is when we were going to visit my mother’s parents for the week of their 50th wedding anniversary. I was eight years old and had a cast on my right arm because I fell outside when my sister pushed me. My father said I had to go, as I couldn’t be left home alone. My mother was adamant. “She’s horrible. It’s her own fault she has a cast on her arm. I don’t want her going with us. They are my parents, and she’s not going.” Who leaves an eight year old with a cast on her arm alone for a week?
By the typical definition of nice, my parents would fit the bill. My dad is very friendly and outgoing and everyone likes him. My mom is much more introverted but she is kind and generous.
This doesn’t mean they were good parents though. Not going to get in that now as that is not the point of the thread.
More like, who spews such damaging poison on her own child? There’s neglect and then there’s abuse. Not to belittle either.
Reading this and other stories here, my own parents don’t seem so lousy, after all. They were not nice, to me or to each other, and it has had a profound effect on my understanding of and perspectives on different kinds of relationships, but mostly they tried their best.
My mom was nice. She was suicidally depressed the whole time I was growing up but I had no idea, because she was able to be there for us anyway. I knew I could count on her and go to her with any problems.
My father was not nice. He let his mood rule how he acted instead of putting it aside for us. I felt like he looked through us and could take us or leave us. I know intellectually that he loved us but he didn’t show it, at least in ways we would have appreciated. He was and is a control freak and if we got hurt or disrupted his plan, we were blamed, even for accidents.
I am just like my father and it’s one of the reasons it’s a good thing I don’t have kids.
When I was in high school, I had a friend whose mom was niiice. 
Hmmm. They should invent an acronym for that.
miltbm. 
Was his name Stifler?
Dad- Yes. Nice is hardly a strong enough word. He died young at 67.
Mom- No. A wretched person. Still hanging on at 89, probably won’t die until the day after I do.
I think most people try their best; some people’s best is really, really bad.
I’d say my mom is nice; probably too nice, to the point where it gets annoying (oh my God, just make a decision already! You have a right to have opinions too!) My dad, on the other hand, was not nice. He managed to alienate his entire family and died alone.
My father was wrapped up in doing stuff and never involved the kids in anything. He always had a project going of some sort (restoring a car, home improvement, rock polishing, etc). When he wasn’t doing that he was in his chair in front of the TV.
My mother was a narcissist who made everything about her. Pretty much whatever mood she was in the whole family better be in the same mood.
We were fairly well off so had some cool stuff and some great yearly vacations. But neither of them gave a rats ass about any of us kids.
They were both educators. I had, and have, a developmental disability. I was pushed through public school despite never really learning anything. They were both regularly “disappointed” but never did anything to get me any help.
She allowed herself a very short fuse and would fly into a rant at the drop of the hat. He was either simmering and not saying anything or stoic.
Neither of them were nice.
Yes.
My mother is a wonderful person. Always devoted to her children and made many, many sacrifices for us and for her grandchildren.
My father was a genuinely nice man. He was very personable and hard not to like. Problem was that he was alcoholic. He always *planned *to take care of his kids, show up to events, show up to work…but then he got drunk.
My mom was a single mom raising two girls in a small town where divorce was stigmatized. She cared for us and told us that she loved us, but she also had an already severe drinking problem and we irritated the crap out of her, as did the fact that she was often excluded from social events with other moms due to her marital status (or lack thereof). And she didn’t have the verbal filter to prevent that from showing. So, yes and no - we knew she loved us, but she was sometimes a terrible parent (but I guess that’s true of most parents, even good ones) and certainly not a great role model, but it could’ve been worse.
My father is about to marry his fourth wife. He didn’t like little kids much - didn’t have much to talk about with us. So when he visited, he’d take us to the toy store, buy us something and stand around fighting with mom. He was “nice” in the way that an acquaintance is nice, though I hear that his friends absolutely loved the guy.