Weekend Assignment #96: "For ladies: Name an incident when you thought: '"OMG I AM my mother! For guys: Same with your father!"
Extra credit: What did you parents do when you told them about it?
Extra credit: What did you parents do when you told them about it?
Here is one of the very few pictures I have of my mom and me together. This was on May 12th, 1979, the day I almost graduated from college. I had four incompletes at the time, all in English. I made up one of them later, but Dr. B. never turned in the grade. It doesn't matter now. A quarter century later, I graduated for real, in a much more lucrative field than English Lit.
But that's not what I'm here to talk about tonight.
My history with my mom was long and varied. Sometimes we were best friends, sometimes bitter enemies. Early on she took care of me, and at the end I took care of her. But I never became my mom - not in the sense of growing more like her as an adult. The similarities that do exist have to do with genetics and upbringing, not me getting old and crochety, or becoming a parent. Let's run down the checklist, shall we?
There's really never been a specific incident that made me think I've become more like my mom. John occasionally claims I'm like her, in unflattering ways; and it's true that I'm very aware of the need to start taking better care of myself to avoid the health problems she had later in life. But the similarities that exist are the same ones that were always there.
Except....
When I was in high school, and being criticized at home for "only" five As on a report card, I'd look at my overachieving mom and think that I'd never be like that. I mean, she worked downtown at a clinic, put in time at the MHA, had a private practice at home, acted and directed and wrote plays on the side. She did all this despite the fact that she needed to take a nap every afternoon, a little souvenir of the encephalitis. I was sure I'd never be that driven, never be the status conscious workaholic, striving for excellence.
So what do you call a woman who ended up with a 3.97 GPA for her second stint in college, who works eight hours a day and sometimes more, comes home and writes very single night, polishes blog entries for hours, and helps out her church as a lector, acolyte, blogger, photographer and webmaster? Am I any less driven than my mom? Am I any more able to relax and do nothing than she was in her prime? I think not. She had different interests and activities and concerns, but I'm every bit as overscheduled as she ever was.
On the extra credit, I don't recall that I ever discussed this issue with either parent. It's too late to discuss it with Mom (well, I can talk to her, but I won't get a reply), and I'm unlikely to mention it to my dad.
But here's the bottom line to all this. I do have some of my mom's faults, not all of which I listed above. I also have most of her strong points. And while I'm a bit ashamed of the former, I'm darn proud of the latter - not because of my own achievements, necessarily, but because I had a mom who passed that stuff on to me, and encouraged me to become the best Karen I could possibly be. I'm still working on that.
Thanks, Mom.
Karen
Tribute page: Dr. Ruth Anne Johnson
But that's not what I'm here to talk about tonight.
My history with my mom was long and varied. Sometimes we were best friends, sometimes bitter enemies. Early on she took care of me, and at the end I took care of her. But I never became my mom - not in the sense of growing more like her as an adult. The similarities that do exist have to do with genetics and upbringing, not me getting old and crochety, or becoming a parent. Let's run down the checklist, shall we?
| Mom | Karen |
| Smart and creative | Smart and creative |
| Lifelong Democrat | Lifelong Democrat |
| Fat (except at the end) and sedentary | (Usually) fat and sedentary |
| Naturally shy, but you wouldn't know it; very outgoing | Shy, but you might not know it; somewhat outgoing |
| Lapsed Catholic | Lapsed Catholic, active Episcopalian |
| Ph.D. in Psychology | B.S.B. in Business/Accounting |
| Licensed clinical psychologist | Accountant, but not a CPA. Yet. |
| Former professional singer | Various high school choirs, but nothing since |
| Prolific songwriter and even more prolific lyricist | Occasional songwriter and lyricist |
| Playwright and would-be novelist | Novelist and essayist |
| Amateur actress | Does the occasional dramatic reading; church lector |
| Overachiever - served on 5 boards of directors (mostly charities) in 1965 | Reluctant workaholic, Church volunteer and compulsive blogger |
| Divorced after 26 years | Still happily married after 26 years. |
| Two children | Unable to have children |
| Multiple health problems, including back injury, polioencephalitis, Hepatitis C, diverticular desease, IBS, stroke, etc. | Just back injury, allergies, gall bladder (removed) and I.B.S. |
| Lifelong smoker, drank in moderation | Never smoked, don't drink |
| Funny, but only occasionally witty | Funny, but only occasionally witty |
| Ethical and loving | Reasonably ethical and loving |
| Terrible taste in clothing | It's not true, John, I swear! |
There's really never been a specific incident that made me think I've become more like my mom. John occasionally claims I'm like her, in unflattering ways; and it's true that I'm very aware of the need to start taking better care of myself to avoid the health problems she had later in life. But the similarities that exist are the same ones that were always there.
Except....
When I was in high school, and being criticized at home for "only" five As on a report card, I'd look at my overachieving mom and think that I'd never be like that. I mean, she worked downtown at a clinic, put in time at the MHA, had a private practice at home, acted and directed and wrote plays on the side. She did all this despite the fact that she needed to take a nap every afternoon, a little souvenir of the encephalitis. I was sure I'd never be that driven, never be the status conscious workaholic, striving for excellence.
So what do you call a woman who ended up with a 3.97 GPA for her second stint in college, who works eight hours a day and sometimes more, comes home and writes very single night, polishes blog entries for hours, and helps out her church as a lector, acolyte, blogger, photographer and webmaster? Am I any less driven than my mom? Am I any more able to relax and do nothing than she was in her prime? I think not. She had different interests and activities and concerns, but I'm every bit as overscheduled as she ever was.
On the extra credit, I don't recall that I ever discussed this issue with either parent. It's too late to discuss it with Mom (well, I can talk to her, but I won't get a reply), and I'm unlikely to mention it to my dad.
But here's the bottom line to all this. I do have some of my mom's faults, not all of which I listed above. I also have most of her strong points. And while I'm a bit ashamed of the former, I'm darn proud of the latter - not because of my own achievements, necessarily, but because I had a mom who passed that stuff on to me, and encouraged me to become the best Karen I could possibly be. I'm still working on that.
Thanks, Mom.
Karen
Tribute page: Dr. Ruth Anne Johnson
3 comments:
THIS was a great entry to read. What a creative way to do this. I love the picture of you together.
Brandi : )
http://journals.aol.com/brandilynneliz/SomethingNew/
I find it very weird that he gender-categorized the assignment like he did. I mean, I freak out much more often about becoming my dad than becoming my mother.
Sarah has a point. I was more afraid be becoming my Dad. I didn't want to be a statistic...continuing the cycle of abuse. My mother's weapon of choice was words. I try not to wound with words either. Every now and then John will shoot me a look and say "OK Carol!" I hate that! I am NOT like my mother. LOL
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