parents and children

Months can pass without seeing Jill, and this week we’ve gotten together three times for three plays.  Today we see My Name is Asher Lev.

It is a sensitively acted 90-minute play.  One critic describes it best as a play about “fathers, sons, and the conflict between family tradition and self identity.” My friend Pam had recommended it, but then warned me, “It has a lot of religious overtones; I just want to let you know.”  I think of myself as more spiritual than religious, and not even much of the former.  Still, it is an engaging drama about the compromises we can and cannot make, and a parent’s attempt to understand a child whose art offends his own values.

I think of my parents and their three daughters.  None of us gave them any real cause for concern.  I would probably be considered the most difficult one, and that’s because I was/am the most vocal.  The biggest fights I had with my father growing up were about the length of my bangs.  Seriously, we would have huge screaming matches, with my father yelling, “How can you see anything with your bangs so long?”  Or, “Let me ask you something.  Do you honestly think your hair looks good like that?”  (I did).  Fortunately we were in sync on more important life issues.

And then I think of my son, Alexander. I believe he doesn’t study as hard as he could.  And I think he should make his bed when he’s home.  But overall, our differences are few, and our values are similar.  I'm a lucky mom.