By: Karen Walker-White

With both Mother’s Day and Father’s Day coming up, I think it would be very appropriate to write about parents. Wanna hear about my two? They’re going to kill me because although they’re both incredible people, they weren’t perfect parents. That’s right, imperfect parents; have you ever heard of such a thing? They made a few mistakes and mainly with me because I’m the oldest and their ‘learning experiment.’ Dear God, don’t think that wasn’t a trip! Thank heavens we all turned out all right, not perfect, mind you, but all right, because there aren’t second chances with raising kids.

Everyday after work Dad would hightail it out to his cherry orchard to putter around and we’d never see him again until evening supper.

“Do you even remember Dad growing up?” asked my sister Mary Paula.

“Of course I remember him. I was his favorite, probably still am, so I always got special attention.”

‘You always think you’re everybody’s favorite in the family and it….”

“Look, ‘ Miss Put A Damper On Your Sister’s Dream,’ this isn’t about me, it’s about two desperately in love people coping with raising five kids on the threat of, ‘Just wait until you have children of your own!’”

By today’s standards we were extremely innocent, but like many children, very headstrong. And because we were raised in a home with a very loving but hysterical mother, there was always that perpetual sense of the sky falling down at any given moment. Everything was such a huge production and big deal. I remember one visitor once commenting that just having lunch in our home was more exciting than attending the fourth of July fireworks.

And God help us kids if we were at a friend’s house and we called to ask if we could stay overnight. The phone ringing any later than that ridiculous hour of 9:00 P.M., and Mom had us in an accident, intensive care unit being administered the Last Rites because we were almost dead and buried! Dad on the other hand, would be the calming force---so much so that Mary Paula doesn’t remember him, remember?

In their younger years, were my parents compatible? It’s not for me to say, but I’ll take a wild stab---heck no! So how do you explain that they’ve stuck it out for almost 68 years in December? That’s not another column, that’s for Ripley’s Believe It Or Not to tackle. But how did they ever know at such a tender age to fully honor their responsibilities to marriage, kids and home?

“We didn’t,” winked Dad. “I didn’t so much as have an extra dime to take your sweet mother out back then.” Okay, so Dad didn’t say sweet, because that’s not his style. But Mom would sure love hearing that.

“About us not having money to go out; you kids needed it all,” smiled Mom.

“Dad, take Mother out now,” I suggested.

“Are you kidding? We’re in bed at 8:00 P.M. and even though your mother is still a pretty little thing, (yes, he did say that) pushing her around a dance floor would feel like pushing around the Empire State Building. No, we both just don’t have the strength anymore.”

“Strength, you kids took it all,” nodded my mom.

And guess what? There wasn’t a trace of bitterness or resentment in her voice and we kids don’t feel guilty. Now those are real lessons in love.

To all you parents out there---God bless and enjoy your day---enjoy your life.

To read more of Karen’s previously published articles, please visit homegrownharvard.blogspot.com