Under Social Scrutiny: Parents Rejected by Their Children

“Beliefs about how much parents influence their children’s development are pervasive and oversimplified. Because of ideals of unconditional love within the mother-child development, those who speak up about adult children who estrange themselves are often judged, or even shunned.” Sheri McGregor, Done with the Crying

What would you do if you came across an angel with enormous wings lying face down in the mud?

What if the angel were nothing but a pathetic creature – old, bald, toothless, ragged, half-plucked?

What if you couldn’t communicate with him as the angelic – or angelesque – language wasn’t part of your school syllabus? 

Whatever your answers may be, keep them to yourself for now.

Let me tell you how the characters in one of Gabriel G. Marquez’ short stories react in exactly the same situation.

In “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings,” a couple finds an angel in their drenched courtyard and, once they overcome their initial fear and stupor, they realize – disappointingly – that there’s no “sense of grandeur” whatsoever about the celestial creature. Wrecking their brains about his origin, they skip over the “inconvenience of the wings,” “intelligently” decide he’s a runaway outcast, and lock him in the wire hen coop.

It is only when they associate their sick baby’s full recovery with the surreal apparition that they magnanimously provide the poor thing with fresh water and food for three days.

In the ensuing years, the angel is invariably and irreverently neglected, mistreated and exploited not only by the couple, but by the whole community as well. One day, after making tremendous efforts, the frail angel finally escapes that village.

What calls for scrutiny in this fine example of magic realism is the writer’s insight into our shared humanity.

Aren’t we defined by our capacity for kindness, compassion and sympathy towards all living creatures (I confess my doubts about rats, flies and mosquitoes, but that’s just me.)?

Yet, how often do we choose to ignore this capacity?

Out of the many (too many) tragic situations out there, let’s consider one when adult children decide to shut their parents out of their lives.

For those parents who truly love the children they’ve nurtured and done their best to educate, this is a fall-from-grace moment – lying face down in the mud, stripped of any previous beauty and worth, muttering a language that their  children don’t – or won’t – understand anymore.

Just like the angel in the story ending up in a cage, parents end up isolated, confined by their children’s rejection – despite explanations, apologies and asking for forgiveness (for what they know and what they don’t).

And just as the angel fulfills his mission only to face people’s ungratefulness, parents do their part only to find themselves staring at the unthinkable: their children’s ingratitude.  

As if their plight alone weren’t enough, other factors deepen their suffering and sense of isolation – the fear and shame of being judged by others as bad parents.  

Speaking from her experience as an estranged mother, Sheri McGregor explains:  “Our friends can’t relate. Perhaps they don’t want to consider the possibility that their own children could grow up and abandon them. Telling others create tension. Faces tighten. Arms fold. People look away. We’re embarrassed to tell our neighbours, our relatives and even clergy. (…) Even the so-called experts may judge us. They believe we must have been too strict, too lenient, too noisy, too opinionated, too…”

However, there’s a difference between how some people react out of ignorance about a taboo subject and others’ deliberate hostility, contempt, and even cruelty expressed through a range of behaviours, including exclusion, indifference, sarcasm and mockery.

Much to the parents’ stupefaction and disappointment, close family members may be no exception.  

How dull would life be without those tone-deaf, at best inconsiderate decisions – like posting pictures on social media that may feel like a dagger in a parent’s heart?

Such behaviours may stem from a seemingly exemplary moral stance which turns parents’ complex narratives into black-and-white stories where “bad parents” play the leading role – a rigid, arrogant view which disregards the truth that authentic heroes are human beings who fall and yet rise again with dignity. 

“I’d never do that to my children,” self-righteous people may say with a tight, confident smile. And maybe they’re right – maybe they’ll never do exactly that: the betrayal parents are guilty of in their eyes.    

But what if the real betrayal was not of their children, but of someone else, or,  perhaps worst of all, of themselves – something that lingers painfully in their hearts and, to their relief, hidden from social scrutiny?

Whatever drives people to feel the need to pass harsh judgement or weaponize it may sadly remain a mystery even to themselves.

What matters is that other people’s private stories are not anyone’s business.

What matters is that each of us expects from others is, if not kindness, compassion and sympathy, then at least basic respect. 

“Don’t do unto others what you wouldn’t want done unto you” – as boring and cliché this may sound, it remains as relevant as ever. 

What can “disgraced” parents do?

On this healing journey, which is unique and cannot be rushed, parents need to be aware of the following danger: endlessly blaming themselves, asking burning questions that remain unanswered and imagining ever-bleaker future scenarios are likely to set them on a downward spiral.

And who wants to become depressed (not me, thank you)?

Secondly, a burden will be lifted from parents’ chests when it finally dawns on them: their children really need to grow up.

How about not pointing the finger at their parents for everything that has gone wrong in their life? How about looking at both their lights and shadow as well? How about facing the hard conversations instead of hiding, forever sulky, behind a wall of silence?   

This is genuinely a time for parents to show what they are really made of: wisdom, courage, inner strength, patience, resilience in what hopefully is a temporary rift with their children.  

Just like the angel in the story, they’ll wipe their faces from mud, tears and snot, smooth out their wings, half-plucked as they may be, flap them with all their might, and fly away – determined to embrace their life.

The children are welcome to join them in this new, safe, appreciative place they’ve found.

As for ungracious, insolent, presumptuous people (I’m having a hard time finding other euphemisms), if they like that muddy, God-forsaken place, it’s really their business, isn’t it?

Resources:

Sheri McGregor, Done with the Crying