I have heard that all families are dysfunctional. Is this true? American poet and essayist Mary Karr says a dysfunctional family is any family with more than one person in it. I tend to agree.
They say that if you analyze a family to find out how it functions, you will discover that even in near-perfect units, there is at least one fault in its structure.
How it got there, no one knows. Perhaps our generation or the one before us, eager to erase the flaws, may have blurred a few lines. Maybe we deepened the shadows a bit too much, and now, in the light of day, we see the imperfections.
As far-fetched as it may sound, this reminds me of my efforts to hide eyebags after a long sleepless flight across the Pacific. I start with just a bit of “concealing” cream, patted tenderly under each eye. Next, I use a light brush to apply a hint of loose powder. I take a second look. Maybe I need a little more of the creamy stuff; another dab of powder. Yikes, I see a new pouch!
One needs to know when to leave well enough alone.
As “pater” or “mater familias,” we do all we can to maintain an appearance of normalcy. Does being normal depend on the number of people in the family? Does it imply the absence of problems? Does it convey that no one is on drugs or involved in a shameful relationship?
For many, it means there is a complete set of parents. But in this era of the overseas worker, there is a least one empty chair at mealtime in too many households. The raising of children is left to one spouse, or, if they are lucky, there is a grandparent willing and able to fill the role. Sometimes the grown-up siblings become overnight parents. The geographical distance that divides the parent from his children soon becomes an emotional chasm that is hard to breach. By the time the worker returns home, the family is broken.
These are the times we live in.
What does a normal family look like? No matter how smooth and peaceful things may seem on the outside, nothing is ever picture-perfect. No matter how harmonious it may seem, someone could be totally out of tune.
A wrinkle, a bump
Just when we think all is going well, something or someone shakes our little world and suddenly there’s a wrinkle. We hit a bump. We learn to live with that wrinkle. We even pretend to enjoy the bumps along the way. No matter how messy or messed up it becomes, it is our family.
Studies have shown that today’s normal family is dysfunctional on some level. There is always some form of discord and conflict. Physical or emotional abuse may even occur regularly. The family accepts it all as part of life.
Even when both parents are home, life often gets out of hand. Suddenly, the children start walking on the wild side. Rather than confront and chastise them, the parents surrender their authority, just to keep the peace. This is a real tragedy.
Too many parents are in denial about the true condition of the family. They live in a world that worships public perception. As long as they can pretend that their lifestyle is above reproach, it does not much matter that they find empty booze bottles in the trash can every night. They are too preoccupied trying to get that mind-numbing buzz they themselves desperately need at the end of a busy day.
But what is it that rocks the foundations of a family? How does family life get from blissful to chaotic?
The experts blame it on a lack of communication. But aren’t we all constantly in touch? I am puzzled at this generation’s need to be connected 24/7. Who do they talk to? And why are we then still so disconnected?
Derailed
For as much as has been made available by the new technologies, so much has likewise been derailed or completely lost.
While we thank the geniuses for Skype, which enables us, in real time, to visit our loved ones wherever they may be, we mourn the demise of direct contact, of conversation, of listening to the nuances of a voice, and feeling the touch of a hand.
Texting is our disembodied way of communicating with one another. While it is a necessity in the business world, it is unfortunately an intruder in our homes. Families now keep in touch with one another by text, even when they are all in the same house.
How can one resolve disagreements? How does one reach out to a brother, a sister, a son or daughter, to make them feel needed, or forgiven?
What happens between a mother and her child when there’s a quarrel? There is so much love waiting to be expressed. How she aches to put her arms out and hold that son or daughter in a tight embrace. But she holds only a cell phone. The rest of it is just air and space.
In the texting world, anger takes on a different face. Sarcasm is its best weapon. There are no physical blows. But the damage inflicted is irreparable.
The other day I was a part of texting banter. There was the usual “hahaha” attached to indicate the light mood of the sender. We all use that to soften the sting of our words or to pretend we mean no harm.
The laughter did little to deflect her arrows. I was actually more annoyed than offended. After a couple of exchanges, I chose not to reply. I have learned there is wisdom in silence.
But sometimes when feelings are rubbed raw, and nerves seem ready to break, we ache to vent our anger. What more convenient vehicle can you find than that little instrument you hold in the palm of your hand?
I urge you to think. Count to 10. Pray before you hit “send.”
A couple of years ago, in the middle of a misunderstanding with someone very important in my life, he sent me a really nasty, scathing message. I stared in disbelief. Was this really meant for me? Could it be a “wrong send?”
But there it was on the lit-up screen, in big bold capital letters, legible and indelible.
I tried to hold back the tears as I hit the keypad. Thank God, after a few clicks, the message was gone.
Pity, there was no delete button in my heart.
