Great Expectations

Recently, I had a conversation with my brother about "great expectations."  Not the book, but about our expectations for ourselves as compared to what our parents hoped for us, and what he hopes for his children.

We don't come from any sort of traditional family of any kind.  No long line of doctors, teachers, firemen, or policemen.  Our family is a mixture of it all.  We have everything from military men and women to nurses.  But, we wondered what did our parents expect.

In this time of Black History Month, I guess we wondered with all of the opportunities now afforded to us, are we taking full advantage of them.  Did we make our parents happy?

My brother--married with children--has a degree and is one of the most dedicated and hardest working men (people) I know.  Although I'm not married, I do have a few degrees hanging on my wall. But, is that what our parents dreamed of for us?

Of course, I had to ask my parents.  Their response was simple.  They wanted us to be happy.

Now, what does that mean :-)  So, if we lived in cardboard boxes underneath the Memphis/Arkansas bridge, would that be okay? According to my parents, maybe.  Maybe we'd pitch tents in their backyard instead.

Early February, I spoke on a panel at a local library for Black History Month.  And looking into the audience to see my mother quiet and smiling.  It definitely reassured me that I chose the right path.  I'm much happier writing and not living in a cardboard box underneath a bridge, or in a tent in my parents' backyard.  And I think, just maybe my brother and I may have met their hopeful expectations :-)