I sat at the Village Inn, being the good son, having pie and coffee with my mother and acting interested in stories about people I don't know. I nodded my agreement and slipped in a few non-committal words to make it sound like I was listening. Then I returned the favor by telling her a story of someone she doesn't know. We continued this dance for about an hour before I made up some excuse to leave and return to my regularly scheduled life.
Don't get me wrong, I like my parents, I do, I just don't want to be them. Then I looked around and saw vestiges of them in my house, in my person. I don't collect matching puppy plates, but I do have china I've never used. I don't buy bulk toilet paper, but have purchased a double roll 4-pack. I catch myself saying things like, "If everyone else jumped off a bridge would you?" and, "Don't waste your one phone call on me." I've tried to forge my own path in life, but somehow can't completely escape my childhood. Why do values we don't really hold true stick with us? Why do we say things to others we hated being told as kids? Do we ever become an individual, or will there always be a part of us that is someone else? Do we unwittingly become our parents?
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