Fifty years ago, my parents and I were at my grandparents’ home on the New Jersey shore, near the golf club. My grandparent’s house was made of stone, with many rooms mysterious to my ten year old mind, including a “music” room with instruments on its walls. We were in the den that had giant gumdrops in candy dishes with perilously heavy covers.
"A comment that can seem trivial or innocuous to a parent can lodge itself permanently in a child’s memory. And it’s the negative comments that almost always leave a lasting impression. As an adult, it's a scary prospect not knowing which comments will be quickly forgotten and which will persist. Caution is possible, perfection is not."
Please share a story, either from your perspective as a child or a parent, of a comment that proved to be unusually memorable.
I'll have to use that "worst father in the world" game!
As for a family story, I've always loved this one my aunt told about smoking pot with a friend in high school, getting the munchies, and making ice cream sundaes. Just as they were finishing their sundaes, my grandmother returned from the grocery store. My aunt and her friend fled to their bedroom and hid between the bed and the wall. Too late, my aunt gasped, "Oh no, we left everything out!" My grandmother was a stern and exacting mother, and so the two girls waited in dread. They heard her enter the kitchen, then followed her footsteps down the hall and into the room. My grandmother had made herself a sundae and slid in between the bed and the wall to enjoy it with her daughter and her friend.
A couple of years ago, on Father's Day, we gathered at an outdoor restaurant. My son, daughter, each of their 2 kids and Kim was with me, of course. The grand children were already grown, none under age 17. Sitting near the middle of the long table near both my son and daughter, I said, "I am really fortunate to have a wonderful child."
I only remember one comment my father made about my studies. I came home from taking the NYS Regents Exam for Hebrew and told him I got a 97. He asked, "What happened to the other three points?" Again, it is the only remark about my academic life that I remember.
I had him as a professor for a semester in a small literature seminar. It was by far my favorite class in college. He was a great teacher and a very kind man.
I love footnote 2! It is crazy to think about what we do to win our parents’ approval, some more than others I imagine. One of my strongest childhood memories is my father rushing toward me with an open envelope he had intercepted from the mailman. It turns out I made all the enriched classes in 7th grade. I’m not really sure that I cared at all about that honor- but I remember my father’s jubilant run to show me!
I really enjoyed reading this post, especially your humorous exchanges with your children. I wish my parents were able to speak to me like that.
As to your question about a comment from my parents that sticks (and still stings), well, it's when I overheard my mom talking about me with my favorite teacher: "Louisa is oversensitive!" I interpreted this comment to mean that it was wrong to express my intense emotions, that there was something very wrong with me. As a result, I had forced myself to suppress feelings that are deemed unacceptable by these big people. I believe this is one of the roots of my life-long depression.
What an unfortunate time to be within earshot. I'm so sorry that happened to you.
It's true that as a parent you have to also guard against kids hearing things you wouldn't want them to hear.
I walked in on my parents once when they were talking softly so I couldn't hear what they were saying. They stopped immediately. My mother asked my father, "Do you think he heard?" My father said no.
Of course I assumed they were talking about me and that it was something very negative. I'll always remember that and will never know if it had anything to do with me at all, but at the time I let my negative imagination run wild.
Thanks for your reply. It was unfortunate timing indeed. Your reflection on not letting children hear certain things is very interesting to me. My mother was unbridled in her emotional outbursts and we children unfortunately had to listen to all the toxic things and complaints she spewed.
So true - the only advice I have given my children about raising theirs is to be careful what you say that might be unintentionally hurtful. They will remember long after you have forgotten what you said. They also will remember genuine praise and acts of love. This has been my guide to interacting with my grandchildren.
Haha. We only had one child, a daughter, but boy, do I remember the verbal jousts. And, yes, "I hate you," is the go-to phrase of middle teens. With smart kids particularly, parents cannot win. If you're strict, you're dictatorial; if you're not, you're trying to pander. But then that stage passes and you're left with a glorious young adult...who nonetheless still does not let you off the hook.
Completely. My daughter turned out totally differently than either of us expected--and is one of the coolest people we know. All the sturm und drang, as often happens with situations that were...uh, difficult...at the time, have become some of my fondest memories.
David, this is such a wise piece, thank you. I’m sure I’ve said many things my child took the wrong way. I’ll describe one, but it’s also kind of complicated, crossing generations back to my father: I woke up late one Xmas eve, certain I saw Santa standing by our tree unloading gifts. When I told my dad this, he looked upset, as if worried I’d actually hallucinated. He then promptly told me that Santa wasn’t real. (Subtext, I think: my mother had been hospitalized at least once for schizophrenia by then.) I proceeded to tell all the neighborhood kids, who were crushed, at least as I remember it, and yes indeed, I recall the shame of falling for an illusion.
Decades later with my young son, an adoptee, my husband and I decided to never tell him the Santa “myth” - my ostensible reason being that adoptees should never have information withheld from them or feel like they’ve been lied to. My son, however, has regaled his college friends with this story many times, indicating how silly he thinks it is - although I’m not convinced he really believes that. Kids remember things for all sorts if reasons. Perhaps it’s a form of repair, allowing our kids to laugh at us or say hurtful things back - to acknowledge that misunderstandings between the generations are legion. 🙏🏽
I love that story, because I can see where your father was coming from. But what's really fascinating to me is that this story may have been your launching point for honest narrative when you told the bad news to the neighborhood kids! it's a funny story on retrospect as most, nit not all, of these are. Thanks for reading and for the comment.
Thanks June so much for that post. You evoke the setting and the frustration so beautifully. There's no more invidious comparison than between siblings. It's perhaps the most consistent theme of the Old Testament. Since you mentioned religious affiliation in your story, it made me wonder whether the tales of Cain and Abel, Jacob and Easu, Joseph and his brothers were viewed as cautionary or just the way of the world.
Great piece here David, and I'm so glad we inspired you to share this. I love how you turned it around with the "worst father" game. One of my best friends does exactly the same thing with his son, in fact.
So, so true how one little comment can lodge itself in a child's memory forever. It certainly happened to me... here's a little snippet from an unpublished piece:
"When I was a kid, sitting at the piano upstairs in our big house at the top of the hill on Hill Street with the view of the city spread out below us, my dad turned and said to me, “you’re a rude person.” Not that I was being rude, but that I was that kind of person. Rude. Well guess what—fuck you, dude! Exactly how is a ten-year-old supposed to know how to be? Even then it was clear that someone was supposed to fuckin’ show me—and, needless to say, that that someone was he."
Although this moment isn't included in this chapter from my memoir An Ordinary Disaster, it's from around the same time—when I stopped trusting my father →
“A comment that can seem trivial or innocuous to a parent can lodge itself permanently in a child’s memory. And it’s the negative comments that almost always leave a lasting impression. As an adult, it's a scary prospect not knowing which comments will be quickly forgotten and which will persist. Caution is possible, perfection is not.”
My kids LOVE to make fun of me for my past screw ups as a mom. Sometimes it doesn’t feel so good, but its better than when they decide to not speak to you altogether. I have three adult kids. At one time or another I’ve received the silent treatment from each of them. I, like you want desperately for them to forgive me and carry on. Sometimes it takes a little longer than I like, but they do get around to it. Now two of them are parents with toddlers of their own and I have had a few good conversations about them understanding better why I might’ve been frazzled.
Yes, all truthful parents will report how their kids can be absolutely horrible to them sometimes!
My adult kids are still amazed that my wife and I were allowed to be parents at aged 25 and 26. As in, who was in charge to let such lunacy happen!
And I guess it's a true cliche that when your kids have their own, they begin to understand us better. My only grandchild is still under a year so he's not yet inflicted mayhem, but it's coming!
I had gotten a B or B+ on something and my father, rather than congratulating me, asked, "Why didn't you get an A?" That and a multitude of other things from my childhood probably fuels my current perfectionism and rage at myself for small failures.
"A comment that can seem trivial or innocuous to a parent can lodge itself permanently in a child’s memory. And it’s the negative comments that almost always leave a lasting impression. As an adult, it's a scary prospect not knowing which comments will be quickly forgotten and which will persist. Caution is possible, perfection is not."
Please share a story, either from your perspective as a child or a parent, of a comment that proved to be unusually memorable.
I'll have to use that "worst father in the world" game!
As for a family story, I've always loved this one my aunt told about smoking pot with a friend in high school, getting the munchies, and making ice cream sundaes. Just as they were finishing their sundaes, my grandmother returned from the grocery store. My aunt and her friend fled to their bedroom and hid between the bed and the wall. Too late, my aunt gasped, "Oh no, we left everything out!" My grandmother was a stern and exacting mother, and so the two girls waited in dread. They heard her enter the kitchen, then followed her footsteps down the hall and into the room. My grandmother had made herself a sundae and slid in between the bed and the wall to enjoy it with her daughter and her friend.
Saved!
A couple of years ago, on Father's Day, we gathered at an outdoor restaurant. My son, daughter, each of their 2 kids and Kim was with me, of course. The grand children were already grown, none under age 17. Sitting near the middle of the long table near both my son and daughter, I said, "I am really fortunate to have a wonderful child."
I only remember one comment my father made about my studies. I came home from taking the NYS Regents Exam for Hebrew and told him I got a 97. He asked, "What happened to the other three points?" Again, it is the only remark about my academic life that I remember.
Reminds me of the Rebbe in The Chosen!
I knew Haim Potak before he wrote that. I was a camper at Camp Ramah and he was on staff. I was a kid, but I remember I liked and respected him.
I had him as a professor for a semester in a small literature seminar. It was by far my favorite class in college. He was a great teacher and a very kind man.
I love footnote 2! It is crazy to think about what we do to win our parents’ approval, some more than others I imagine. One of my strongest childhood memories is my father rushing toward me with an open envelope he had intercepted from the mailman. It turns out I made all the enriched classes in 7th grade. I’m not really sure that I cared at all about that honor- but I remember my father’s jubilant run to show me!
That's such a nice memory. Sometimes we're happier than our kids for something that happens to them. Thanks for the comment and the good memory!
I really enjoyed reading this post, especially your humorous exchanges with your children. I wish my parents were able to speak to me like that.
As to your question about a comment from my parents that sticks (and still stings), well, it's when I overheard my mom talking about me with my favorite teacher: "Louisa is oversensitive!" I interpreted this comment to mean that it was wrong to express my intense emotions, that there was something very wrong with me. As a result, I had forced myself to suppress feelings that are deemed unacceptable by these big people. I believe this is one of the roots of my life-long depression.
What an unfortunate time to be within earshot. I'm so sorry that happened to you.
It's true that as a parent you have to also guard against kids hearing things you wouldn't want them to hear.
I walked in on my parents once when they were talking softly so I couldn't hear what they were saying. They stopped immediately. My mother asked my father, "Do you think he heard?" My father said no.
Of course I assumed they were talking about me and that it was something very negative. I'll always remember that and will never know if it had anything to do with me at all, but at the time I let my negative imagination run wild.
Thanks for your reply. It was unfortunate timing indeed. Your reflection on not letting children hear certain things is very interesting to me. My mother was unbridled in her emotional outbursts and we children unfortunately had to listen to all the toxic things and complaints she spewed.
So true - the only advice I have given my children about raising theirs is to be careful what you say that might be unintentionally hurtful. They will remember long after you have forgotten what you said. They also will remember genuine praise and acts of love. This has been my guide to interacting with my grandchildren.
Haha. We only had one child, a daughter, but boy, do I remember the verbal jousts. And, yes, "I hate you," is the go-to phrase of middle teens. With smart kids particularly, parents cannot win. If you're strict, you're dictatorial; if you're not, you're trying to pander. But then that stage passes and you're left with a glorious young adult...who nonetheless still does not let you off the hook.
I've been on that hook for many years and I wouldn't get off it for anything! I imagine you feel the same.
Completely. My daughter turned out totally differently than either of us expected--and is one of the coolest people we know. All the sturm und drang, as often happens with situations that were...uh, difficult...at the time, have become some of my fondest memories.
David, this is such a wise piece, thank you. I’m sure I’ve said many things my child took the wrong way. I’ll describe one, but it’s also kind of complicated, crossing generations back to my father: I woke up late one Xmas eve, certain I saw Santa standing by our tree unloading gifts. When I told my dad this, he looked upset, as if worried I’d actually hallucinated. He then promptly told me that Santa wasn’t real. (Subtext, I think: my mother had been hospitalized at least once for schizophrenia by then.) I proceeded to tell all the neighborhood kids, who were crushed, at least as I remember it, and yes indeed, I recall the shame of falling for an illusion.
Decades later with my young son, an adoptee, my husband and I decided to never tell him the Santa “myth” - my ostensible reason being that adoptees should never have information withheld from them or feel like they’ve been lied to. My son, however, has regaled his college friends with this story many times, indicating how silly he thinks it is - although I’m not convinced he really believes that. Kids remember things for all sorts if reasons. Perhaps it’s a form of repair, allowing our kids to laugh at us or say hurtful things back - to acknowledge that misunderstandings between the generations are legion. 🙏🏽
I love that story, because I can see where your father was coming from. But what's really fascinating to me is that this story may have been your launching point for honest narrative when you told the bad news to the neighborhood kids! it's a funny story on retrospect as most, nit not all, of these are. Thanks for reading and for the comment.
I posted about this a while ago https://open.substack.com/pub/junegirvin/p/not-good-enough-starts-early?r=1isob5&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
A repeated snub that crushed me as a child and well into my adult life.
Thanks June so much for that post. You evoke the setting and the frustration so beautifully. There's no more invidious comparison than between siblings. It's perhaps the most consistent theme of the Old Testament. Since you mentioned religious affiliation in your story, it made me wonder whether the tales of Cain and Abel, Jacob and Easu, Joseph and his brothers were viewed as cautionary or just the way of the world.
Great piece here David, and I'm so glad we inspired you to share this. I love how you turned it around with the "worst father" game. One of my best friends does exactly the same thing with his son, in fact.
So, so true how one little comment can lodge itself in a child's memory forever. It certainly happened to me... here's a little snippet from an unpublished piece:
"When I was a kid, sitting at the piano upstairs in our big house at the top of the hill on Hill Street with the view of the city spread out below us, my dad turned and said to me, “you’re a rude person.” Not that I was being rude, but that I was that kind of person. Rude. Well guess what—fuck you, dude! Exactly how is a ten-year-old supposed to know how to be? Even then it was clear that someone was supposed to fuckin’ show me—and, needless to say, that that someone was he."
Although this moment isn't included in this chapter from my memoir An Ordinary Disaster, it's from around the same time—when I stopped trusting my father →
https://bowendwelle.substack.com/p/f05-the-knife-goes-on-the-left
“A comment that can seem trivial or innocuous to a parent can lodge itself permanently in a child’s memory. And it’s the negative comments that almost always leave a lasting impression. As an adult, it's a scary prospect not knowing which comments will be quickly forgotten and which will persist. Caution is possible, perfection is not.”
Incredibly true 👏
My kids LOVE to make fun of me for my past screw ups as a mom. Sometimes it doesn’t feel so good, but its better than when they decide to not speak to you altogether. I have three adult kids. At one time or another I’ve received the silent treatment from each of them. I, like you want desperately for them to forgive me and carry on. Sometimes it takes a little longer than I like, but they do get around to it. Now two of them are parents with toddlers of their own and I have had a few good conversations about them understanding better why I might’ve been frazzled.
Yes, all truthful parents will report how their kids can be absolutely horrible to them sometimes!
My adult kids are still amazed that my wife and I were allowed to be parents at aged 25 and 26. As in, who was in charge to let such lunacy happen!
And I guess it's a true cliche that when your kids have their own, they begin to understand us better. My only grandchild is still under a year so he's not yet inflicted mayhem, but it's coming!
It’s definitely coming! Enjoy the moment when it does. It’s weirdly satisfying. They finally get it.
I had gotten a B or B+ on something and my father, rather than congratulating me, asked, "Why didn't you get an A?" That and a multitude of other things from my childhood probably fuels my current perfectionism and rage at myself for small failures.
Thanks for sharing that. An offhand comment that had an outsized effect.