Family

Writing about my family is something I'm a little hesitant to do. We are an odd bunch, mi famiglia is full of misfits and outcasts, with a few overconfident teens thrown in for good measure. But I was browsing my frequented blogs this morning and she wrote this great little post about her family so I have been inspired to share.

My parents are both in their mid fifties, my mom is lithe and tiny with a shock of curly black hair. My dad is tall and heavy, his midsection is a perma-pregnant belly, though if you make fun of it he'll have you punch it, and tell you it's all muscle. My dad is bi-polar (like myself) and my mom is a world class enabler. Its a wonder I don't pull out my hair rocking back and forth on the floor like some actress past her prime in one of those Lifetime movies of the week.

They separated eleven years ago when my father in one of his bi-polar rages attacked my mother and she called the cops. He greeted them at the door wearing nothing but his glasses.
"Sir could you please put some clothes on?" The middle age officer asked. It was like living in an episode from cops except my mom wasn't high on PCP.

Since his downfall they have lived in separate homes. My sister and I stayed with our mother in the apartment we grew up in and my father moved around from place to place. The last apartment I saw was a studio in Queens that struck me because of the way it was decorated, like he had emulated her eclectic style but hadn't been nuts enough to fully carry through.

My mom is an art teacher, and as such her large three bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side feels more cramped then my tiny one bedroom basement dwelling. Cramped with art supplies and any odd piece of furniture ("its an antique and I got it for a steal!") At first glance from an outside observer one may think an African family lived there. This is due to my mothers excessive collection of African art and masks and any sort of tribal/ethnic pieces that decorate her walls, shelves, bathrooms. In actuality, even though she professes to be open minded and expressive, my mother has turned out as neurotic and judgmental as the rest of her Italian family.

For eleven years my parents have lived apart and yet they remain married. They never even applied for a legal separation. In fact they date each other! At least once a year they give it a good old college try and begin to see if they can't work out what they haven't been able to work out nine billion times before. It starts out well and good but eventually it gets sticky and they retreat to their corners to lick their wounds and bad mouth the other until they start dating again. My parents love each other, they are attracted to each other, but they do not like each other very much.

At first I was weird about it, I mean when I would wake up in the morning and find my dad in the kitchen I didn't have to guess twice what had happened the night before. No child should be faced with their parents sex lives with any sort of regularity. But not that I'm out of the house and my sister is at college I figure the only people who get hurt are those involved and really I should let them be.

Its a strange situation I'm in. I remember growing up with school mates whose parents were divorced and shared a mutual disdain that was evident in any situation when two partied are forced together. I never wanted that to be my mom and dad but to explain to friends that my parents are in their infatuated stage and no I don't think they'll move in together again get a bit tiring.