#ParentalReparations

I was raised in a time where we didn’t have cell phones or GPS. When you took a flight you could actually eat a meal with silverware. I mean like actual silverware; you could actually cut a steak 35,000 feet above the earth and not go to jail for having something metallic on a Domestic flight. The 90’s was a great time. Literally the last era before technology was fully integrated into our lives and forever changing how humans operate in our society.

We had Blockbuster, Biggie, PAC, Nirvana, Michael Jackson, Michael Jordan, Uncle Phil, Cousin Will, Sega, Nintendo, VHS, cassettes, Cd’s, bullet proof TV’s, MTV, BET, hell…we even had TV repair shops. When people dated they actually talked to each other to get to know each other. We were home before sundown. Until Y2K reared it’s ugly head. Technology started distracting us, rather than assisting us.

Fast forward to now; time passes, things change. We’ve evolved and integrated so much tech into our daily routine in such a short amount of time that when I try to reminisce about “the good ol’ days” and how we “survived”…it’s all but a blur. I can barely remember what my middle school looks like without looking at a picture. I can’t even remember my first kiss. The only thing I can vividly remember is the amount of time and effort mom and dad put in, because they were ALWAYS there for me.

For every odd situation I put myself in, I have a memory of my parents advising me on solutions. It doesn’t matter what, they were there to help support me even when it was inconvenient. Even now at age 32, my mother is going the be the main reason I am going to survive this new chapter in my life. The new frontier of rearing my first biological child. I've been a parent for 7-8 years already, and I love my children but I've never been "here" before.  My kids were on the tail end of being potty trained when we first became a family.  I've never unfolded stroller, let alone put one together. I haven't changed a diaper before.  The land of diaper genies, strollers, and baby food has been nothing more than a fairy tale visualized by the groups of photos shared from friends that fill my Social Media homepage(s) that seem to become more and more frequent the older I get. Cousins, friends, sisters, brothers, all pairing off and getting married. Starting their life together, celebrating birth, handling growing pangs and celebrating simple, yet important milestones.

My mother has been there before, with me. With my sister. She also did a lot of parenting by herself as dad traveled a lot [as he does to this day] to provide for us financially. So, suffice it to say I survived. Which means my parents know their way around a baby and they can be a resource to seek counsel about all issues that are relative to life in general.

Thinking back to all the work my parents put in to our family in general, I give them reparations…yes, I said it. Reparations. There are a lot of times, more than I can remember where I ignored advice and put myself in a odd situation where they've emotionally, or physically bailed me out. For who I am right now, I owe them my life.

Simple things such as taking my mother to lunch at least once a week. We sit and reminisce about the past, laugh and converse about the present, and plan for the future. Though they are more than able to pay for themselves, we usually switch off back and forth taking care of the bill. I try to take care of the bill most of the time just to show them that they're worth my time. They're worth my love and energy, to reaffirm to them from all of the times as a child I selfishly acted without regard to the sacrifices they've made. I ask my dad whenever I have free time if he needs help doing landscaping work, or repairing, or moving stuff. We're men, we don’t have a ton of in depth emotional conversations but being able to physical work to help him out and spend time with him I wouldn’t trade it for all of the video games in the world.

Now, every parent doesn't deserve reparations. Some parents are assholes. I give my parents emotional and physical reparations because they deserve it and I owe my life to them. LITERALLY. My goal for all of my children is for them to [eventually] understand the sacrifices we make as parents to make sure that they not only survive but excel in their environment. Maybe get some reparations from them in the future. Maybe a mini-goal for them is to eventually buy me breakfast also. Actually it is. I need pancakes in my life.

#PhantomDad