Child, like parent

Lately I have been thinking about how children inherit and resemble their parents' traits - perhaps more than one would want to admit!  I came across the following picture today that reminded me of this very truth and what I have been learning lately. No, this is not one of my cakes - it is actually one of my mom's creations. It is a farm cake that my mom made for my sister's birthday. My mom made this phenomenal castle cake for one of my birthdays that was quite large in size. I had honestly forgotten that my mom was also into cake decorating as well. Instinctively, I am drawn to an art that has been passed down to me without my conscious knowing! Like my mother, I have stayed up into the wee hours of the morning decorating (cup)cakes.

During my hospital admission, I was sent to a special program to deal with some of the post traumatic stress symptoms and as part of that program I had to write an autobiography. It was actually quite a good assignment. The first part was a description of the memories that stand out to me from birth to present. The second part was a description of how I felt at the time of the particular memory, as best as I can remember now. The last part was based on what I would say now to the girl I once was. I learned a bit of what is still difficult for me to face and how I've grown with time, counseling and other experiences. When I returned to the hospital, my doctor asked if he could read this autobiography. He came back to my room saying that I "write with style" and that I should continue writing! Quite a compliment coming from someone who is in a high position, well educated and who has written many papers that have been published. Some of my readers have said that I am a good writer.

I think writing may be a gift that God has given me as the words seem to pour out and I rarely go back and edit them unless they are being marked for a grade or used for some official purpose (and even then I can be lazy!). However, there were many years of rewriting papers with my stepfather editing them. I was homeschooled during highschool and instead of getting a grade for a paper, I was expected to revise until it was "excellent". Excellency changed in definition and expectation as I grew in maturity. My stepfather is a gifted writer and it is through his time and efforts that I was able to develop my writing abilities.

Steve Bell sings a song that has been making me think lately called "Absalom, Absalom". I remember him speaking about this song at his concert. He talked about the pain as a father watching his child make the same mistakes, struggle with the same struggles and do the very same things that he has done wrong. He said that this breaks his heart in a way that nothing else does.

Come and smear me with the branches from the tree

Hyssop dipped in innocent blood to make me clean

Let an old man's once broken bones once more rejoice

Absalom, you were my little boy

Absalom, Absalom

My son, my son, my son

Caught in the tangles of deceit

Hanging lifeless from that tree

Absalom, Absalom,

My son, my son, my son

Caught in the tangles of your hair

Fruit of my own sin to bear

You were the laughing boy who bounced upon my knee

Learned to play the harp and use a shepherd's sling

Always watching, my impressionable son

Absalom, oh what have I done?

You were watching when I took a good man's wife

Gave the order for his murder just to cover up my crime

All the vanity, cruel arrogance and grief

Absalom, you learned it all from me

The person in charge of the special program asked me a lot of difficult questions, including how I cope with the painful parts of my life. While quite obviously against my Christian beliefs, he did use them to point out that some of my choices to cope go against the beliefs that I firmly hold. He pointed out that I grew up in a household where Christianity and ethics were proclaimed in words, but not in actions - that it was ok to espouse one thing and do something completely different. While our actions are totally different, this doctor pointed out that I am like my step dad in this way - I believe one thing, and do another. Ouch. Those words hurt.

But I needed to hear them.

There are many ways that I am like my parents. I can be proud of some of them - like the cake decorating and writing interests. But others that need to change. The cycle needs to stop.

It has also made me think more about my life and the wrong things I do - these are not things I want to pass on to my children. Yet I see from my own life how easy that is. Children are impressionable. They are watching. Watching perhaps without even knowing! These things need to be addressed now - before I have children watching.