In January 2015, Bobbi Kristina Brown was found unresponsive in a bathtub and died several months later. This really pissed me off. The daughter of Witney Houston died in almost the exact same way her mother did, just a few years later. Her mother, once the picture of talent and promise, became entitled and self-indulgent as the years passed and her fame grew. And she passed these traits down to her daughter with equally tragic consequences.
No, strike that. Bobbi Kristina was only 22. This is much worse.
My sister Theresa couldn’t be more different than Witney Houston in almost every way. Theresa is a bible thumper. I know its not a pleasant way to characterize a person of devout faith, but when that faith gets in the way of logic, effort, and relationships, it really shouldn’t be defined pleasantly. I am also very different from my sister in almost every way. Among my Irish Catholic family, I am the one member of it (seemingly) who struggles with faith. My other sister, Mary, thinks I’m angry with God. I’m not sure why she keeps saying that. I would love to be angry with God. It would indicate I believe he exists.
I have been struggling to achieve a belief in God my whole life. I still am, and will not give up on that.
As for Theresa, although her faith is different from the other members of my family, they seem to respect her a great deal for her devotion. I am often looked at as the “sinner” and I suppose I have earned that label to a degree. My sisters-in-law, also quite faithful, have relationships with Theresa that I don’t. She is practically a stranger to me. But faith is a tie that binds in my family and she is typically held in high regard for this reason.
When I got married, Theresa was uncharacteristically communicative with me. She sent literature on “a woman’s place” in a marriage, as ordained by God. Quoting scriptures from the bible about why I need to be subservient and explaining why professional ambition is satins work. When I got pregnant, more literature on “spare the rod and spoil the child” and why it is acceptable to begin to beat your kids with a stick as early as 4 months. By the time the kids started school, I had learned to just toss the literature about home schooling, the myths of evolution, and worship over science. And when I got divorced, the literature stopped coming. I was officially a lost cause. No hanging together in the after life so no real reason to be in touch anymore I guess.
Fast forward to today, and Theresa’s equally devout husband hasn’t worked in 10 years. She won’t get a job and continues to home school her kids. Very poorly in my opinion.
She asks for handouts all the time to get by and has gone through their entire life savings, so my family sends her money and feels sorry for her. I don’t. They blame her husband for the fact that the kids (now young adults) are screwed up with a lackluster desire to work, no real job skills, and don’t really fit in with mainstream society. I don’t. They chalk all the kids up as lost causes due to the fact that they had a lazy weirdo for a dad. I can’t.
At the end of the day, it’s simple. YOU DON’T GET TO SCREW UP YOUR KIDS. I don’t care what your belief system is, how old the kids are, and whether you are the husband or the wife. Everything you do for the entire span of your life effects your kids. You don’t get a pass at parenting and you NEVER get to call it a day.
That doesn’t mean you don’t ever put yourself first. I’m no angel, but supporting my kids, educating them, and helping them find their place in this world is a huge priority. But not my only priority. For me, that meant putting on my big girl pants when their dad walked out on us and getting a job. They saw that. And they are good students. It meant finding new friends when the old ones didn’t want to hang with a single divorcee. They saw that. And they have good friends. It meant doing the things in life that made me happy. They saw that. And they are happy and engaged with loads of activities and talents. It also meant cutting off all communication with their father when he was abusive. They saw that too. And I am relatively confident they have learned to walk away from abusive relationships if they ever find themselves in one. (Especially Katy. She doesn’t take shit from anyone.)
When my ex first left and observed that I was going out with friends on weekends he had the kids, he scolded me for “putting myself first”. I immediately responded, “You’re right! And you better get used to that.” Putting yourself first, in the true sense of the meaning, is teaching your kids to put themselves first too. Being lazy, poor and checking out isn’t putting yourself first. Nor is being uncaring to those around you. All of these things are good for the soul. Not just something you do in fear of losing your home. And certainly not something you either avoid or subscribe to for fear of some divinely-applied consequence at the end of your days.
Doctor Phil likes to say, “Everything you do writes on the slate of who your children are going to become.” As obnoxious as that bastard is, he makes a good point from time to time.
When Theresa visited us last year and she told me that her daughter wasn’t really motivated to learn her lessons, I asked her what she intended to do about that. She seemed a little surprised by the question. I was equally surprised by her response.
“Well, if it takes her 6 years to get through high school and get her diploma, so be it. Not much I can do about that.”
WTF?!!
The family is currently debating whether or not to send Theresa money again. They’ve chalked the kids up as lost causes. I think its so very sad. Those three are too young to be disregarded. They are entitled to far more than that. And there is so much life ahead of them to screw up. And just wait till the rest of them realize that the oldest boy is gay.
So we’ll sit, and wait, and see how this family will get by. I truly hope for the best for all of them. And yes I have prayed on it.