Not all children mourn their parents’ deaths and not all parents love their children unconditionally.
Do we truly ever experience unconditional love in our lifetime?
The title is a quote I recently came across, in a K-drama titled “Run-on”. As all of us are intertwined in filial relationships, we can do with or without, the quote struck a chord, and here’s why;
I recall a couple of things from my childhood:
- Being allowed to just be — I was free to play, to choose to study, watch T.V., eat or drink whatever I prefer, and choose hobbies and extra-curricular activities that I’d like to engage in.
- Always being ill — I was a sickly child. This, I am so glad to have outgrown.
- A father who loved me, but clearly did not love my mother — My mother played the maid’s role if I were to come to a conclusion based on how my father treated her. But he spoilt me, and never refused anything I requested of him. I wasn’t much of an asker, so good for him.
- Being loved and taken care of — My sister was present 24/7. The drastic age gap between my sister and me stirred a special sort of bond. She was my pseudo mom and tended to all my needs. I worried about nothing!
At the age of 18, I learned that my mother has been diagnosed with cancer. The years that ensued, was a long process towards my mother’s eventual demise. She took it all so gracefully, while I complained about having to take care of her, as my father refused to get professional help. So I did all sorts of things that a qualified nurse would do.
Looking back, that was truly the most intense period in my life. Not once do I recall, truly being happy about taking care of my mother who I still believe loved me is the only human to have loved me unconditionally. She’ll be sad to see the unconditional love cynic I have become.
As a child, I loved my father unconditionally. Even more so than my mother. As I matured, my opinion of him changed, only to be replaced by, “he’s an egotistic man with anger management issues”.
Since my mother’s demise, I’ve added a new label to my aging father. “Here’s a man, who does not know how to love, but seeks to be loved, only because there are many things he cannot do himself. So all he seeks is support!”. I’ve realized that the only reason he grieved my mother’s death is that he’s lost that one person who willingly did all the household chores, that my father was never willing to do. Many of my friends’ fathers are the same, and we’ve learned that the patriarchy was stronger generations prior.
Few years down the line after having to be a victim of his multiple attempts of guilt-tripping in which he emphasized that I am obliged to be his carer, the idea of the parent who loves unconditionally died a tragic death within me.
In evolutionary biology and history, there are reasons why parents choose to have children and reproduce. Not one of them is unconditional love. Through societal norms, we are born to a system that tells us, “family above all else”, and we assume that the parent loves us unconditionally and there are definitely many who do. Parents also expect children to behave as they expect them to, and as reality crumbles expectations, they choose who and how to love.
Since my child loves me and needs me, I should love him/her.
My child chooses me above all else, so this makes me feel self-important and therefore I choose to love this child.
This child brings me great pride, since he/she is doing well, and therefore I will love him/ her.
This child tends for me when I’m sick, and is around when I need him/her, therefore I choose to love him/her.
Here’s what’s missing in this prescription; a drug called unconditional love.
A child’s perspective is not too different:
My parents have done so much for me, therefore I choose to love them.
My parents are all I have, so yes I will mourn their death, should they decide to abandon me.
My parents are my safe house, where I feel the most loved, so I love them.
In this little bargaining model of give and take, is there truly anything unconditional?
This cynic is yet to change her mind!
Children begin by loving their parents; after a time they judge them; rarely if ever, do they forgive them!”
— Oscar Wilde
