Fantasy Parents
My friend Bo's parents have always been my fantasy parents.
When Bo and I became friends in high school, I used to love hanging out at his house. His parents had filled the home with amazing artistic treasures from around the world, mostly from Scandinavian countries, as they met on a boat going to Sweden (or was it Norway? I forget). Bo's dad introduced me to the music of Kraftwerk and I first heard the Bobs in that house.
I secretly wished that Bo's parents were my own. His mother knew how to cook everything and for a while she had a weaving loom in the front room. When I hung out there, I always felt super creative. Bo and I would play interesting music and word games, making up poetry and artwork. I once wrote a sweet haiku when we were taking random words out of the newspaper and creating poetry. Here's how it went:
Guitars, mandolins
Instruments of country song
They bring joy to all.
I wished that I could have had Bo's parents, because they fostered so much creativity. My mother was depressed and overwhelmed and abusive and used to tell me "Anne Louise, nobody cares about your STUPID MUSIC". Bo grew up to be a professional oboist and has made his living off of music, almost exclusively, for his entire adult life.
Until today, I always thought they cared as much for me as I did for them.
Bo told me his parents were driving through Portland this week. I told Bo that I would drive 3 hours to see them, since I had not seen them in 5 years. His father is not the healthiest man and his mother has recently undergone some serious medical procedures.
I called them today and it was clear from our conversation that their agenda was full and that they were unwilling and unable to budge an inch, in order to see me. Bo's dad said that "we'll see you when you come to Harrisburg" (meaning Harrisburg,PA, where I grew up - and where I was very happy to leave) Even after I said that I would probably never get back to Harrisburg, they did not take my request to see them seriously.
Turns out I don't mean as much to my fantasy parents as they do to me. Turns out they only think of me as their son's friend.
My heart is broken.
posted by Anne S. @ May 04, 2010
1 Comments:
Dear Sister...please don't be broken-hearted for long. There may be more to the story than you know and if she has been seriously ill recently he may be overly protective of her. I recall him always being a bit controlling. And they WOULD love to see you back in their home since you felt so much a part of their family there. When you left Harrisburg, you left them there too.
No matter what, you are loved by your birth parents and many other parents too. The Jacobs loved you too and there are many, many others who did and still do love you.
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