How Do/Did You Speak to Your Parents?

zeddd

Well-Known Member
W
My mom's died from her taste for pills and heroin. She shot a hot dose of fentanyl. I never really got to know her. But, I still grieve for her. I blasted a rose tattoo for her on my inner bicep. If I had the chance to make it right between us I would of liked to, but it is pretty impossible now.


"What did you talk about? How did it make you feel?"

If I had the chance to say anything to her now I guess it would be to say I am sorry for being such an unworthy shit. She worked very hard to keep me fed when I was a young teen and starving. She deserves my respect. Because gods know my pops never bothered to make that happen...

This whole thread makes me feel kinda weird.[/QUOTE
why not just crack out the violin crybaby lol
 

Olive Drab Green

Well-Known Member
Hi panda..

I lost both my parents, daddy in 2002 and mama just last year. I spoke to them with respect but also as if they were my friends. They raised me and my brothers to be respectful and caring of others, and they led by great example. I wish they were still here, I'd love to be able to talk to them again. I hope whatever you are going through/dealing with is resolved and you'll remember this. Our parents don't live forever, they aren't super beings, and they have their faults like everybody else. Don't waste a moment that you don't have to, stay in touch with them and speak to them about anything/everything because once they are gone you'll wish they were still here. Not one day goes by I don't think about something or see something I'd like to talk to them about or share with them.

Life is fleeting...
I envy you for having such a good relationship. But it's one thing to regret your parents dying, it's another when not only do they not care that you almost came home in a box, but they actually actively try to kill you.
 

roseypeach

Well-Known Member
I envy you for having such a good relationship. But it's one thing to regret your parents dying, it's another when not only do they not care that you almost came home in a box, but they actually actively try to kill you.
I just wish I had more time with them..

I'm very sorry you had/have to deal with that. I've some close friends that had bad relationships with theirs too, one was sold for crack when they were just 5 years old..you can imagine what that was for. My heart goes out to you :hug:
 

Olive Drab Green

Well-Known Member
I just wish I had more time with them..

I'm very sorry you had/have to deal with that. I've some close friends that had bad relationships with theirs too, one was sold for crack when they were just 5 years old..you can imagine what that was for. My heart goes out to you :hug:
I appreciate your sympathy, but I just need your understanding. I'm not a disrespectful punk. I just refuse to be enslaved because two people decided to make me from their DNA and are convinced I owe them for it. I was a fucking accident, I owe you nothing, and parents should act like parents, not like vicious overseers who have a sadism fetish.
 

6ohMax

Well-Known Member
I envy you for having such a good relationship. But it's one thing to regret your parents dying, it's another when not only do they not care that you almost came home in a box, but they actually actively try to kill you.

Don't feel bad. .I don't talk to my parents either...nore my older brother. ...my parents don't even make an effort to call their granddaughters. .. I know a you people think I'm a low life. ..to each their own. ..but I am doing my best Not to raise my kids like my parents did me

Oh, but they better not miss their yearly cruise or 2
 

indikat

Well-Known Member
“They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.”
Philip Larkin
 

6ohMax

Well-Known Member
What killed me is that when my so called mother asked me for reimbursement when she flew out to Colorado from Pennsylvania to watch her granddaughters , because i was in afghanistan about to come home on r& r while my wife flew back to Korea for her fathers funeral

Some mom huh
 

tyler.durden

Well-Known Member
My father was a miserable man, and he abused all of us including my mom. He was really great at abuse both physical and mental, and seemed to take great pleasure in it. He did get up every day to work shit jobs to provide a meager living, we were very poor. He was apparently very intelligent and was an accomplished artist, but he never shared any of that with us. He had many friends, and treated most people outside of his family very well. He died long ago. He fucked us up but good, us kids always joke that it is a wonder that we're not all in jail. My mother was an amazing woman, and taught science at a local college. She had many artistic talents, as well, and made money with them on the side. She was super sweet, everyone touted her as an angel and martyr, but most of that was to hide her weakness and insecurities. Even though we were poor, she'd take us everywhere and found many opportunities for us in music, sports, and academics. The city had money back then, and offered many great programs for poor, inner-city kids. We took advantage of most of them. She was VERY intelligent and creative with endless time and effort for her children. She was my best friend, our rapport was as peers and friends after I hit 11 or so. My siblings didn't honor her like I did in her later years, I made sure that we had a standing date every Wednesday to go downtown to a great concert series, then I'd treat her to nice places to eat. We'd talk for hours about science, philosophy, theology, fine arts and human nature. We'd often be the last people in the restaurant. No one had a mind and heart like hers, and I miss her very much. No regrets, though, and nothing left unsaid, as I made sure to treat her like each day was our last. She developed Alzheimer's and declined quickly, and after taking care of her for several arduous years, she is finally in a nice, local home. I went to play violin for her there recently for her birthday, and she did not recognize me for the first time. I held it together for the visit, but I cried my ass off when I got home. She doesn't really know her own life anymore, it's very strange to watch such a vibrant person fade away before your eyes and to grieve for them while they're still alive. But, we honor who they were. Thanks for everything, mom...
 
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indikat

Well-Known Member
My father was a miserable man, and he abused all of us including my mom. He was really great at abuse both physical and mental, and seemed to take great pleasure in it. He did get up every day to work shit jobs to provide a meager living, we were very poor. He was apparently very intelligent and was an accomplished artist, but he never shared any of that with us. He had many friends, and treated most people outside of his family very well. He died long ago. He fucked us up but good, us kids always joke that it is a wonder that we're not all in jail. My mother was an amazing woman, and taught science at a local college. She had many artistic talents, as well, and made money with them on the side. She was super sweet, everyone touted her as an angel and martyr, but most of that was to hide her weakness and insecurities. Even though we were poor, she'd take us everywhere and found many opportunities for us in music, sports, and academics. The city had money back then, and offered many great programs for poor, inner-city kids. We took advantage of most of them. She was VERY intelligent and creative with endless time and effort for her children. She was my best friend, our rapport was as peers and friends after I hit 11 or so. My siblings didn't honor her like I did in her later years, I made sure that we had a standing date every Wednesday to go downtown to a great concert series, then I'd treat her to nice places to eat. We'd talk for hours about science, theology, fine arts and human nature. We'd often be the last people in the restaurant. No one had a mind and heart like hers, and I miss her very much. No regrets, though, and nothing left unsaid, as I made sure to treat her like each day was our last. She developed Alzheimer's and declined quickly, and after taking care of her for several arduous years, she is finally in a nice, local home. I went to play violin for her there recently for her birthday, and she did not recognize me for the first time. I held it together for the visit, but I cried my ass off when I got home. She doesn't really know her own life anymore, it's very strange to watch such a vibrant person fade away before your eyes and to grieve for them while they're still alive. But, we honor who they were. Thanks for everything, mom...
 
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