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Parents. How would you describe yours?

Jadzia

on holiday
Premium Member
I thought this might be fun and interesting. :)

I'll go first...


My mother is fairly quiet and robotic, as she devotes her life to housework. She finds pleasure in her housework "nothing quite like seeing a nice pile of ironed sheets". Her life is routinised, and she easily gets stressed and confused if things don't go smoothly, or if her plans are disrupted. She's an excellent cook, and is skilled with most domestic things and daily chores, but beyond that her thinking can be error prone. She is peaceful company, if a tad boring.

We have fairly similar tastes in most things, although her choices tend to be bland and minimalist whereas I tend to go for richer and ornate things, and I'm more willing to explore new territories.

Her mind is simple enough that I can emulate it. I usually know what she's thinking, because I know how she looks at things. I'm often capable of answering her questions while she's still drawing a breath to ask them.
ISFJ

My father is rugged and practical. He's reliable, dependable, keeps to his word, and has high standards. His practicality makes him adept with DIY. His high standards mean that he likes good quality things and prefers to save up and buy the best. So my parent's home is furnished and decorated to a very high standard, which is a method I'm trying to adopt for myself.

I don't always enjoy his company however because the bulk of his chit-chat is mocking or criticizing others for their choices/opinions which he doesn't share, and putting the world to rights. He's rather prejudiced. He believes that nothing is ever his fault, always displacing blame.

He's not very skilled at thinking about things. Thinking frustrates him, and despite being introverted he's not shy about turning to verbal attacks and raising his voice if things don't go his way. He prefers to spend the bulk of his free time alone watching tv, doing stuff in his garden, or reading his paper.
ISTJ
 
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My mom was a "Great Broad" in the best sense of the term. She was bawdy, didn't take any shit, and enjoyed a wee drop of the drink from time to time.

She was a stay at home mom who was clearly in charge of everything. She was not a feminist per se, but try to make a sexist joke around her and you were likely to get a right hook to the belly for your trouble. She loved sports (she was a crazy Dodgers fan).

Her sudden death at the age of 54 was a terrible blow to all of us. I still miss her. She was great.


Dad...well, that's more complicated. His relationship to us kids was through mom. He loved her very much, and he provided for us extremely well. We never wanted for anything. I give him a great deal of credit for that.

But there was never much of a connection between him and I. Dad was an engineer...everything was straight lines and concrete. We just didn't get each other. Before my mom died, our relationship mostly consisted of "Hey mom, tell dad I said 'hi'".

After her death we drifted even further. I haven't seen him in 10 years. He calls once in a while, and he sends our kids things for birthdays and Christmas, but that's about it. It's pleasant, cordial, but not very deep.
 
My mom is very difficult to describe. She comes across as very nice, sweet, loving. And I suppose she is, at least to some extent. She does seem to care a lot for people (or, at least, certain people) and doesn't mind helping others. She was always a good worker and didn't mind taking the extra time to do something right. She is pretty traditional, very conservative and religious (though not oppressively so). She gets easily offended by profanity, sexual innuendo, violence, etc. Though she comes across as this quiet, innocent person, she's also a little bit of a manipulator and control freak. She likes to be in control but she does it quietly. She definitely wants things done her way, and she can be quick to judge others and start an argument with someone if she disagrees with their opinions or actions. I think she also is quick to make herself out as a victim when things go wrong, to make her look like a defenseless, helpless woman so that others will support or help her. She doesn't like to admit that maybe some of the problems were her fault, or that she could take corrective action herself to solve the problems.

My dad is quite different. He's very relaxed. Almost too relaxed. As I got older, I definitely latched onto him more because of his parenting style. While my mom was more rigid, he was much more flexible. I'd even go so far to say that my mom was more of a hard ass than my dad was when it came to raising kids. He wasn't the kind of father who tries to "toughen up" the kids. He is incredibly supportive. He's easy to please. He doesn't set high expectations for anyone. He's always eager to help out. He puts things in very simple, plain words. He keeps it real. He doesn't manipulate or exaggerate or blow things out of proportion. He's a very simple man who doesn't need much to keep him happy. He can be an ass when he needs to be but it's pretty rare. One thing that drives me crazy sometimes is that he can be manipulated by the women in his life - first my mom, and now his current wife. He definitely can be a 'yes man' when it comes to his wives.
 
My mother was brilliantly and stupendously nuts; my father is down-to-earth, reliable and utterly dependable. They made for quite a good team, really, and I like to think I got a decent smattering of both their contrasting personality traits. ;)
 
My grandmother, the strongest influence since she was the actual father-figure for us, was a strict disciplinarian. In the 1940s, she divorced her abusive husband and raised 3 children, owned her own home, and worked 2-3 jobs most of her life. A registered genius, she held several degrees, including multiple doctorates. She once put my mom's head through a plaster wall for correcting her in front of guests. She was an ordained Holiness minister, who thought she knew everything. Humility was not in her personal vocabulary. However, she taught me the values I hold most dear: honesty, integrity, faith, a desire to help others. For years I have toyed with the idea of writing a novel about her life.

My mom is, as mentioned above, great at playing the sympathy card. Nothing is ever her fault. She is the poor, poor victim/martyr in every situation. Her happiest times were when she won blue ribbons at the county fair each year for cooking, canning, sewing, etc. She never forgave me for chasing away the stepfather who beat me every day of my life from age 4 to 15 (I had had enough and beat him back one day... he left). She resented having to work outside the home instead of being the stay-at-home mom.

My dad is a character. He is a retired race car driver who liked fast cars, fast women and fast booze. He also worked on movies as an auto artist. (Many race cars in movies were painted by him, back when they actually used paint instead of plastic wraps.) He also painted the race cars of many famous drivers in NASCAR. Dad is the original 'wheeler dealer', always looking for the next big, get-rich deal. I love him, but he probably taught me more about the kind of person NOT to be. He still calls the President of the United States "that ni--er president", which infuriates me!

Now Dad is married to his 4th wife, for 26 years so far, who is a caring Christian woman. She's had a very positive influence on Dad, who has learned to be a little more caring than he used to be. Once in awhile he actually thinks of others. She led Dad to a relationship with God, for which I will always be indebted to her.

In other words, I have relatively average parents/parental influences. Your Mileage May Vary.
 
My mother is the frontier woman. She is the jill-of-all-trades and believes nothing is ever done right unless she does it herself. She taught herself to cook, sew, weave, garden, do basic electrical wiring and create architectural blue prints. She put my father through college and law school by various jobs, such as a legal secretary, a forest ranger, a RA at the school for the deaf (where she learned sign language on the job), and a librarian. However, she is never proud or boastful; she just quietly gets on with it and is an enthusiastic teacher of whatever skill you ask her to share. She is also the martyr, and was raised to believe that a woman's value comes solely in service to others, even if it is to her own determent. She will suffer in silence and not speak up until she is practically near death. She is accepting of almost everyone, except those cruel or proudly ignorant. She is classy and has refined tastes, but is just as happy in blue jeans, having a burger with friends. She is generous to a fault and spoils her family and pets with all the affection she can muster. She is also, however, more at home in solitude than a social setting and often prefers to keep her own company, enjoying her books, her pets or simply simply watching the birds and deer from her own front porch.

My father......is a very complicated man. Before Alzheimer's, he was a brilliant attorney who proudly controlled the legal departments of some of the largest corporations in the country. He volunteered his services to the World Wildlife Foundation and the Sierra Club, as his knowledge of land, water and mineral rights was vast. He even worked in the Justice Department, during the Nixon administration, and his rather frank and open criticism of the President earned him a tapped phone and a large Federal file.

My father was a very well-educated man who came from the poorest of circumstances imaginable. He knew there was a better life to be had and was driven to get it. He was physically and emotionally abused by his family, and although he certainly learned from their failings, he never abandoned the tendency to seek out and destroy any form of perceived weakness. His criticism was lightning fast and biting, and others' emotional reactions were a mystery to him. He was never involved or even aware of the feelings of those closest to him, but instead saved his kindness for those he barely knew. He was completely unforgiving of any failure, but refused to see his own weaknesses at all. He was arrogant, sometimes violent, and never had conversations; he lectured and expected others to simply sit and absorb his brilliance. But he also valued knowledge so highly that he inspired a love of learning, an appreciation for art, theater, literature and music, as these, in his eyes, were the highest calling of man. He despised superstition, empty tradition and vacuous followers, and dismissed everyone who could not meet his high ethical or intellectual standards--which was pretty much everyone.
 
My mother was at one time, a generally good humored woman (though a bit think skinned) whose overall personality became bogged down by her health, so that now she's just a depressed shell of her former self. She used to play the guitar (and was very good at it, still is), and was the life of every family get together. Over the past 15 years, She's been ravaged by disease and disability, someone who requires near constant attention to see to her wants and needs.

My father is a country boy at heart who attended the first 5 years of school, left and never went back, who has worked himself to a frazzle and doesn't even know what he wants anymore. He's a decent guy who is terrible with money, but is always willing to help others out in time of need, usually to the detriment of himself (and the budget). He is always trying to make himself a better person, and that counts for something, but it usually never works out.
 
My mother is nuts a nice nuts but nuts all the same, she loves the horror films like the saw series but is scared of spiders she is quite often chasing the neighbour hood kids off our lawn. She likes the odd drop or four of gin.
She is very house proud and dose the house work herself which leads to some quite funny tirades between her and my partner.
My mother knows sod all about anything remotely electrical including how a remote works usually takes four or five times to explain how to change channel.

My father, well he's a twat the less said about him the better
 
My father was a kind, fair, quiet and gentle man who never had anything bad to say about anyone (except politicians and football umpires).

My mother's life has been totally centered on my brother since he was born. She is quite an opinionated woman. I am quite often embarrassed by her racist remarks. She is also very blunt. Her opinions have mellowed a little bit in the last few years.
 
My Dad's goofy and embarrassing in that way that a father can be. For example, when he wins in Parcheesi or something he'll do this ridiculous little strut and grin. He's relatively outdoorsy; his dream is to build a cabin in Vermont and retire to hiking and hunting and fishing. He's not very patient, gets stressed and tense during family trips, and when he thinks someone is being an idiot you can read his disgust plain as day on his face.

My Mom is harder to describe. She reads a lot, is very much into sports fandom, and wishes my Dad would lose weight. She does all kinds of things to try and nudge him in that direction - she joined Weight Watchers, goes to exercise class, got an exercise machine and set it up with a TV so my Dad could use it - nothing took.
 
My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was a child. I'm 45 years old and she just called me on the phone and got upset with me because she sensed that I was tense speaking with her. She is brilliant when she's manic and has good intentions, but she doesn't take medication to regulate her moods and my life has been a living hell for years because of it. She's actually hurt because I "sounded tense." Not because I said anything out of line. I just can't put on a show anymore after all these years and she's reacting badly. Quite frankly, I'm at a loss and in despair of it at the moment. If she weren't mentally ill, what a dynamic person she would be but she's never, ever going to change. Mental illness is a tragedy, but she doesn't take meds so I can't help but be angry. God, what her life could have been. Bipolar disorder is a hideous illness.

My father is kind and fair and increasingly passive as the years go by. He retreats because he doesn't want to deal with my mother. He was a disciplinarian back when we were teens out of necessity because mom was in and out of the hospital with exhaustion because we "wore her out." They lead separate lives in the same household. They're both open minded, taught me to have good manners and to be scrupulously honest and fair. They taught me to work hard. But they're both emotionally miserable.
 
My mother is the type that looks for reasons to complain, even if she has to create them herself. My siblings and I try to avoid speaking to her whenever possible. My father died shortly after I was born, so I don't know what he was like.
 
My father is a surgeon and embodies a lot of the traits you'd expect to come with such an occupation. He's loud, very opinionated (but in his mind it's not an opinion, it's the truth). He's very intelligent and I haven't met many people who could match his intellect or his ability to retain knowledge. He's extremely popular with kids, a creative and artistic person, loves to cook and would give everything in the world to his family if he could. He can come off as very strict and scary but he's very much a softy at heart. His house is an immense source of pride because he has worked so hard to get where he is today.

My mother is personable, sensitive and charming. She's very intelligent also but doesn't like to use her intellect at full capacity unless it's required. She enjoys luxuries and works hard for them. Although she seems like the sweetest person in the world, she's actually quite terrifying when she's mad and she was the one that disciplined us when we were young. She's also a bit head-in-the-clouds and comes up with all sorts of ideas without rationally thinking them out. We tease her for her tendency to trail off in the middle of sentences but act as if we all know how the sentence finished in her head.

The older I get, the more flaws I see in my parents but the more I've come to respect them.
 
My mom loves to read, she always thought it was more important to read than dust. She also used to be a great cook, but she is an invalid and pretty much sits and reads right now. My Dad takes care of her. He is very smart loves to read history books. He volunteers a lot, but can be very opinionated. They're are both good parents, but sometimes its hard to watch them get older.
 
My mother is someone I am only just beginning to understand. We had a very formal mother daughter relationship, which meant that she was not prone to confiding her private thoughts with me - I was the child, she was the mother, period. Even though she's a young mum, she's old fashioned in a lot of ways. I do know she is a nurturer, who spoils the people she loves. She is unfailingly ethical, dignified, and gracious. She has beautiful manners, and took care to instil those in me (some stuck, some didn't :lol:). Being a Libran, she is peaceful and calm, and hates conflict of any kind. I have never ever heard her raise her voice. This sometimes can lead to problems when action needs to be taken by her and she does not. She's great with people and has many friends, who tend to treat her as a sort of agony aunt. She is tolerant, liberal, and patient, and has always allowed me to be my own person without crushing my spirit/trying to bend me to her will. I have always had more freedom than my peers. She's always had a great creative eye and makes a lot out of very little. She makes her own clothes and curtains and such. Having said all that, she is not without her flaws, which has led to a recent, what appears to be permanent rift. She, ostrich fashion, likes never to acknowledge why this has happened. We are very much chalk and cheese.

My father was a military cad who pulled my 16 year old mother out of school to elope and marry, and then promptly abandoned us when I was 2 months old. We didn't see him again for another 8 years. At which point my mother took the opportunity to get a divorce and move continents entirely. My mother never mentions him. My grandmother has told me he was a handsome charmer who had the gift of the gab. I have never enquired much about him ans feel the less said about him, the better.
 
Digits, i remember you once told us a story about your mom (i'm pretty sure it was you) and she sounded absolutely awesome. I wish i could remember what the story was, and if i could, i'd ask you to repeat it for everyone who never read it. Gah. A mind is a terrible thing to lose!

Anyway,

My mom: an undiagnosed bi-polar. The queen of pill popping. Has lots of "friends" but really could give a shit about any of them. It's all about her. That's how she was as a younger woman/mother, and thats still how she is today at 79. I still have unresolved issues with her. ya think?

My dad: undiagnosed with major depressive disorder. An alcoholic who smoked 2 packs a day until my son was born and i told him he couldn't smoke in the house when he was here. He was pissed off as shit at me. The next day he quit smoking and never smoked again. Gave up drinking just like that as well (although that was years later).

I had lots of scars and lots of unresolved issues until after years of therapy i told both of them that they sucked as parents. My dad admitted it. My mom said, "Oh, i wasn't that bad!"

My dad and i became best friends and spoke everyday, maybe 3 times a day. He died almost 8 years ago and i still mourn him. My mom and i speak once a week at best.

He was the most amazing man i have ever known. My mom thinks it's all about her and we should be grateful we are allowed in her world.
 
Yoinks! All these recollections make me grateful for my parents! It is very hard to see them get older - they call at least once a month to tell me one of their old friends - who I've invariably also known a long time - has died. Eventurally they may be the last of their group - due in part to a ferosciously healthy life-style. They weren't perfect and they were strict, but I always knew they loved us and really wanted what they believed was in our best interests.

My dad is very calm and phlegmatic, my mom is a whirling dervish of energy. They seem to balance each other perfectly. My dad came home from work every day and melted into his armchair - he was a factory floor supervisor - my mom was a social worker and tended to worry we would all become axe murderers which is funny - we all turned into my dad!

They are extremely conservative and I have learned not to discuss politics with them because those discussions can get shouty - although very very few ever have and ended with hugs.

They are the best of people and I am very blessed they were my parents. If everyone's parents were like mine I cannot help but think the world would be a so much better place than it is.
 
My parents were incredibly damaged by their own upbringing but always did their best for us. Which isn't to say they did really well, but we ended up okay and mostly able to forgive.

Jan
 
My mom died when I was 11, and was sick for a long time before that. I have very few memories of her when she was well. But I do remember she was very nice and friendly and kind.

My dad is pretty much a living god in my view. One of the greatest men I've ever known. He raised me almost by himself. I owe him everything - I would be lost without him. And he's cool, to boot.

My stepmom and I sometimes did not get along - this had nothing to do with resentment over my mom's death or anything like that. I always knew my dad would remarry - he had every right. I would never expect him to be alone for the rest of his life just because my mom died. No, it was just a minor personality clash between me and stepmom. But we got over that.
 
My mother is a wonderful, but shy woman. It has sadly held her back in her life a great deal. She's hard working, but quiet. However, she's a very intelligent and reasonable person with a fantastic sense of humor. She relishes a stimulating conversation (or argument.) She's a geek, too. She's the person that got me interested in all of the nerdy things I love. I've always been close to her and feel like I can talk to her about almost anything. She's been on of the largest influences on my life by far.

My father is a vicious bastard. He sees people as a means to an end and has no interest in anyone unless they have something to offer him. Once he has what we wants, he discards them. He's tactless, unhygienic, and almost always unpleasant to be around. He once told me straight up that his love for me was conditional on my school performance. He hates it that I have not turned out to be exactly the same person as him, and has no patience for my interests or hobbies. He is incredibly irrational and is prone to exploding in fits of anger if he finds himself cornered in an argument. I despise him.
 
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