Honor and Love

I had to force myself away from being argumentative with my mother yesterday during devotions.  She began again with the negative attacks of my dad, accused me of being in denial about his condition for several years before his death.  It's almost like she has forgotten that I lived around them.  I talked to my dad on a regular basis during those years in question.  I know he was my dad.  I know we were close.  But I'm not stupid, just because he was my father.  I'm not in denial or anything like that. 

I know she had a hard time and not all of it was of her own making.  But I get so tired of being told how awful he was.  And I get tired of her constant attacks of his 'Jewish' character.  The things she attributes to his Jewish heritage are general human character traits, but if she didn't like it, it was because he was Jewish.  The things she always resented about my grandmother –his mom- are suddenly the result of her Jewish heritage. To her credit, she did say that I didn't have any trouble understanding the love and goodness of God because, unlike herself, I had a father who loved me and was good to me.  I have to remind myself that she is 95 and has made a habit of demeaning the men in her life.  I also loved my grandfather.  But then that's my struggle. 

The Bible says "Honor your father and mother."  Sometimes I want to ask "Which one?"  It would seem that to honor my mother, I would need to disregard and disrespect my father.  But to honor my father, contests, almost daily, the word and attitude of my mother.  I hope I can avoid doing that to others as I age.  I hope I have.

Maybe it is naïve, but I would rather remember my mother as a generous person who planned and hosted great family events of joy and music.  Though she lacked taste in the inner courts, she was the most amazing gardener.  I want to retain my memory of my father as a benevolent and kind man full of songs, stories and laughter.  He was a hard working man whose word what his bond.  

I recall that my grandfather could be a stern man, but he was a man of integrity and ingenuity.  He believed in hard work, thrift and manners, yet he loved as fiercely as he lived.  I am saddened that my mother only saw the fierceness and never the love.

There are things in life that we cannot avoid nor can we fix them.  That also saddens me, but it teaches me as well.  I hope I’m not too old or too stubborn to learn.