Three things my parents did right

Jen suggested on her blog recently that we write about three things our parents did right.

This is a tough one, not because my parents didn't do things right---but because I know they will get around to reading this, so I want to make sure I'm "getting it right" in my recollection of past events.

So after pondering this entry for a while, here are my three.

1. They loved each other (still do!).
I remember reading an Erma Bombeck column years ago (remind me to tell you about my fascination with her another time), where she wrote about how the most important thing parents could do to raise "healthy" children was to love one another. She said that when parents were in love, the house would be filled with love and the children would bask in that love and grow up to be loving adults. Yep. That's it exactly. My parents are affectionate, they tell each other "I love you." They are celebrating 37 years of marriage this year and not only are they still in love, they have given my brother, sister and I a wonderful example of what it means to be committed to your spouse. Through thick and thin, they are there for each other. Like any relationship, theirs isn't perfect, but it's pretty close.

2. They let me be me.
Parents are supposed to love their children unconditionally. So many of us, however, know parents that live vicariously through their children; who desperately want their children to achieve things they didn't. Or ones who couldn't accept a child's different way of thinking or dressing. My parents always treated us with respect, even when they weren't quite sure what to make of us. During adolescence they let us try on new identities, they encouraged our pursuits, they told us they were proud of us. They never tried to squash our dreams. And while they let us learn from our mistakes, they encouraged us to keep trying, to keep figuring out who we wanted to be in this world.

3. They made sure we did things together.
We ate dinner every night as a family and unless you were dead or dying, you had to be there. End of discussion. We didn't eat at the same time every night, we didn't eat too much in the way of gourmet meals, but we were together as a family, long before research studies touted the importance of this. We also went to mass every Sunday. The time we spent together on Sundays wasn't just about God. It was about being together with God and each other. The time we spent in the car, kneeling in the pews, and munching on donuts after mass, all of it was sacred time.
Spending time with each other throughout the week gave us a chance to learn from and about each other. It gave me a sense of safety, of knowing who I was and where I belonged.

I could go on...they also encouraged my sense of wonder, they kept me optimistic, they taught me to care about others, they subscribed to the newspaper....they did so many things right :-) But Jen only wanted three, so I'll stop here.

The invitation to write about your parents is open until the 11th. Feel free to join in and write too!