In the early years of our marriage, my husband and I had time for great discussions, and we loved to talk with each other and have debate through long evenings over dinner and wine - books, news, life, philosophy, movies, what kind of ketchup is best. One of the things we considered early was what kind of family we wanted to be. I'd mentioned to him an article I'd read that divided families into two types: green and brown. "Green" families focused on the living - the plants, the pets, the kids - as top priority, and "brown" families focused on other things: financial success, home, goals, rules, etc. My point with him was that I was frustrated with articles that relied on a false dichotomy for their point. "Things aren't just either-or," I pointed out, swirling my wine and doing my 20-something-self best to look intelligent.
He winked at me. (Something he did a lot, which I later learned was his way of communicating that perhaps - just maybe - I was taking myself too seriously). Then he looked thoughtful for a second, and picked up his own wine. "We'll be a green home," he said.
"No, a green home," he said. "We'll be about the living."
It was another of the many, many moments over the years that I realized why I loved him so much. We talked more about this idea that night - that the cats mattered more than the furniture, that the kids mattered more than what our neighbors thought of us - that we wanted to be that family.
And we were. Always - a big home filled with plants and pets and kids, and plenty of mess. And it worked. We raised three beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, and talented children - and then they were grown. As was and is true for many families these days, it was not easy for our children to get off on their own. Some had fairly smooth launches, others had bumps and aborts and second and third tries. But now they are all very successful adults - families of their own, homes of their own, lives of their own. And each of them returned home more than once before that was true.
It has become more and more common for adult children to either return home to their parents homes (sometimes called "the boomerang generation") or to never leave until well into their twenties or even early thirties. A Gallup poll estimates that over 14 million adult children live with their parents - over 50% of 18-24 year olds, and almost 15% of those 24-34. There are lots of reasons for this. With ever-growing populations, jobs are harder to find, housing is more expensive and harder to find - and, sometimes, the young just need a base for a longer time before they are either financially or emotionally ready for independence.
My point, though, is that it is not, generally speaking, what parents expect when they welcome those little bundles into the world. Someday, they think, when they've done their job and sent these beautiful people out into the world, they'll get to be just a couple again. It is often not a conscious expectation, but it is an expectation. And it's getting harder and harder to come by.
My own husband passed away young - in his late forties - from a rare progressive illness, and we did still have adult children in our home: our middle daughter, recently divorced, with her two young girls. I don't know what I would have done without her help, love, and support during those days. My point here is that we got from them as much as we gave - and it was worth it. But it was not easy. There were many difficult and challenging days, and both as a family and individually we learned from them. The purpose of this blog is to share what we learned with other families struggling with the same problems, and the same joys.
----------------------------------------------------------
Coming soon:
* How to Handle the Return
* The Bill Cosby Factor
* Getting to the Move-Out
* Foibles, Facts, and Financials
* Don't Make These Mistakes
* DO Make these Mistakes - and Learn from them
No comments:
Post a Comment