The Emotional Orphan

You think of Ricky and Lucy- Fred and Ginger- Roy and Dale- Ozzie and Harriet- Darren and Samantha, and a host of others including the most reknowned of all Ward and June. You think of white picket fences, two point five children or whatever the average is for the day(eg the Brady’s). One child of course is good, the other a little mischievous- with a penchant for tom foolery. Shenanigans abound but there is at the core one thing. Love.

The husband-father works, Mom may or may not. However- I am publicly laying claim to the sitcom idea about Mom the Home-Schooler….There is of course civic activity, church involvement, and the timelines all seem to follow their prescribed course. Birth, School, Work, Marriage, Death. All with a smattering of the actual individualized dramas that are necessary to sell soap, or high speed internet as the case may be. Wash- Rinse- Repeat.

It is all packaged so nicely and for an easily influenced kid, longing for the promise these images bring it is easy to believe it can be that way. I still believe, even more so now, that it can be this way. I have seen it and know what it looks like.

It is the essence of Life however to learn to deal and cope with the reality that it usually isn’t this way at all, and how to deal with the heartbreak that comes from it.

Believing it can be so, and EXPECTING it to be so are two seperate things entirely. My vision always was that it should be all happy with momentary setbacks in life like not getting to the dry cleaners in time to pick up your suit for the big presentation at McMahon-Tate. The images of perfection are being thrown at me from all sides, but in reality my Mom is throwing particularly heavy pieces of cut glass at my Dad. Over my head. It can get confusing. So I expected Mayberry, and when things weren’t that simple, I felt entitled to a payoff because it wasn’t. I felt deserving of some relief because I was pretty sure inside that it would never be Mayberry for me. I was entitled.

My parents will power, new friends, new jobs, new houses, new churches new whatever could never provide the semblence of stability for very long, much less a lasting changing effect. I watched from the middle of it while they tried.And became determined(resigned) to do the same. After all my mom did at least become supermom, and my Dad made lots of money to give my junkie step mom. Something must be working right. If I could double their effort-at least in my head, and combine that with a sense of entitlement, and the fact that I was infinitely more wise than they, or anyone else, my success should be guaranteed. Whatever success is. I am not sure how the television crowd learned their lessons or got their motivation, but I am pretty sure Wally and the Beav never accompanied June to a nightclub to spy on Ward, and to see if he was with a hooker named ChikiBaby or not.

That is the crime of a perfect scene. The crime is that there is no such thing. We rarely offer appropriate alternatives, nor do we prepare ourselves or those we love for the humanity of this world, with all the trimmings. We point to the perfect scene – somewhere else – (far removed from our responsibility,) as the ideal, and point towards whatever gets the blame for it not being so in our lives. When we point out, four other fingers point back at ourselves, our inadequacies, and our fears whether we know it or not. In our most misguided moments we even pretend it is like the Nelsons, or the Huxtables. We are blind to the realities and shield others from the truth because the fraility of our human existence is hard to accept.

It is my responsibility as a human, as a husband and father of sorts, and particularly as one who has been blessed to live through it, to shine the light of hope, to carry a positive message without dishonesty, and to emulate the balanced, compassionate, accountability that comes from walking through-persevering with Hope. I am a cheerleader for Truth and Hope, and I need to exhibit the common trait of most of those cheerleaders you remember from school. Visibility, and consistency. Remember? They were bubbly, bouncy, and a pep rally on two legs ALL the time. Alone or in packs(which scared me to death BTW). I need to put on the armor and go forth in the world carrying the message of Hope and Salvation to those most in need. Starting with those closest to me. Sans the skirt of course…

The TV families looked perfect. The cheerleaders looked perfect, but they like you and I have their own humanities to deal with, and the only thing that can help any of us is true unconditional love. A price that has already been paid by the ONLY true perfection. It offers a scene it would be a crime to miss.

Copyright 2004 JNV