Dear Elen
You’re right. I’m not exactly shocked, more surprised. I did not expect a letter from you, especially one so friendly. Thank you. I thought that we had both just decided to end any possibility of a relationship for whatever personal reasons. In the messy aftermath of mother and AJ’s deaths then dad’s going to live with John, I felt that we all got lost in blame and recriminations, punching and counter punching. I certainly don’t want to rehash that mess. We all did our best to keep it together while they were alive, but after they were gone, anchors adrift, all hell broke loose. I think that is especially true with regard to mother as she generated the strongest psychological pull.
I forgot that I did that interview for the Dartmouth oral history project. I do remember that the interviewer was very skilled. He asked questions about things that I had pushed aside or relegated to the not important column. I’ll have to reread it myself.
My actual assessment is that both our parents were just a few notches above barbarian, moderately well behaved ones that you might ask to dinner on a good night, but not the kind that you should let near impressionable children. I suspect that they both had the deep loving feelings that parents normally have for their children, and they usually displayed acceptable feelings in public, but in normal day-to-day interactions, they were little more than robots, acting out conflicted tradition ladled stereotypes that white Republican isolated upper-class striving parents instill in their children so that they’ll inherit the earth. If I sound bitter, I’ve tried very hard to avoid that, but I’ve also had to deal with the repercussions my whole life. They had no idea of what it was like to be gay. No that’s not exact--even if they had an inkling, their only interest was in stamping out any traces of being gay, which of course set us up for life long conflict, and caused immeasurable pain for everyone. They also managed to alienate me from the rest of the family with the exception of Julie. I’m sorry for their pain (my real feelings are closer to “fuck their pain”), but I wasn’t about to just give up on what was most important to me and be a dentist. Being gay is no excuse for the way they treated me.
There is also no excuse for the way that Mother treated you. I can only guess that your personal pain was equal to mine but in a different way as the expectations were different.
Wouldn’t it be great if parents really did recognize that their kids were unique individuals full of talent and life, and encouraged them to follow their own lights and inclinations? I think that you did that with your children. Although I am not close to Mac, I do know that Julie has been able to create a wonderful life and career. I admire her, Bret and the kids. They are wonderful.
Through them I have been able to catch some of what you’ve been going through. Julie told me about the move to Delaware. I even did a google search of your new address and saw the house. Looks like a good place to settle; no horses, too bad.
I’d like to think that as I get towards the end of my life, I can forgive the foibles of my parents, and to a large extent I have. It’s probably a good thing to preserve the best memories of our parents, but I would add the caveat that we shouldn’t hide their hideous sides. Dad was an extremely interesting and intelligent man, most of which he didn’t share with me, and certainly not as much as did with his grandchildren. At least I was able to see and appreciate a lot of this wonderful side before he died. Mother said to me that she only treated me so badly because she loved me so much and wanted me to have a good life. Of course that meant that it had to be her idea of a good life. Sadly I think that only says that she herself was blocked from actually giving and receiving love which makes me sad, but perhaps a bit more understanding. It motivates me to try to be as accepting and loving as I can be, in ways that, for whatever reason, were impossible for her.
I now live in Northern India. It’s really an OK place for a poor man to retire. I can’t afford to live in the United States. There are plenty of things that interest me here, and I have been able to make some great friends, though interestingly very few Americans. I am outside the insanity of life in the States, which is really beyond my comprehension. I don’t know when the level of education about the Republic, about anything, became a thing of the past. I can’t pinpoint a cause, but it seems that America’s days are numbered, or at least the country that we were brought up in. Recent correspondence with your daughter confirms my suspicion that John had sympathy with the fascist right, which doesn’t surprise me, given his level of education and his racism which I could not countenance. Hard for me to believe that we were so different. On the other hand, I do think that both our parents would be far more indulgent of the Trump insanity than either you, me or Julie. The economic drivers of American political life have always favored those with money, but what is so insane to me now is that people with means have been able to co-opt those with next to nothing, exploiting fear and prejudice with nothing in return but more anger and racism.
It’s monsoon. It rains most of every day, the rivers overflow, everything is always wet, and it can get cold. It is certainly a different experience and I’m generally OK with all that. A few things I can’t get used to are the primitive buildings. I moved into a flat owned by a local taxi driver whom I’ve known since I first started visiting with Ashish more that 12 years ago. It’s almost entirely poured concrete with adobe interior walls which makes it a refrigerator in winter. I am in the foothills of the Himalayas so it’s cold, and now in monsoon, the plumbing leaks; there’s even black mold. I’ve had to rip out all the “pipes,'' and replace with something of higher quality. That meant tearing off tiles in all the washrooms and digging new channels into the soft brick walls. A total mess. Plus I have a “full house” water filtration system, reverse osmosis, technology from Germany I think, and as I am the only house in all of McLeod Ganj to have it, it has been a bear to maintain and keep in running order. I’ve managed all this work in translation. LOL. But my water does taste pretty good, and I was able to do it for under 3 K.
Parveen is here to help manage the tile guys. I’ll have to go and check on their work soon. It is always a mystery when things actually get done, but I think we are almost there with another 6 weeks of monsoon, at least.
Again, thanks for the email. Give Charlie my regards. All the best,
I forgot that I did that interview for the Dartmouth oral history project. I do remember that the interviewer was very skilled. He asked questions about things that I had pushed aside or relegated to the not important column. I’ll have to reread it myself.
My actual assessment is that both our parents were just a few notches above barbarian, moderately well behaved ones that you might ask to dinner on a good night, but not the kind that you should let near impressionable children. I suspect that they both had the deep loving feelings that parents normally have for their children, and they usually displayed acceptable feelings in public, but in normal day-to-day interactions, they were little more than robots, acting out conflicted tradition ladled stereotypes that white Republican isolated upper-class striving parents instill in their children so that they’ll inherit the earth. If I sound bitter, I’ve tried very hard to avoid that, but I’ve also had to deal with the repercussions my whole life. They had no idea of what it was like to be gay. No that’s not exact--even if they had an inkling, their only interest was in stamping out any traces of being gay, which of course set us up for life long conflict, and caused immeasurable pain for everyone. They also managed to alienate me from the rest of the family with the exception of Julie. I’m sorry for their pain (my real feelings are closer to “fuck their pain”), but I wasn’t about to just give up on what was most important to me and be a dentist. Being gay is no excuse for the way they treated me.
There is also no excuse for the way that Mother treated you. I can only guess that your personal pain was equal to mine but in a different way as the expectations were different.
Wouldn’t it be great if parents really did recognize that their kids were unique individuals full of talent and life, and encouraged them to follow their own lights and inclinations? I think that you did that with your children. Although I am not close to Mac, I do know that Julie has been able to create a wonderful life and career. I admire her, Bret and the kids. They are wonderful.
Through them I have been able to catch some of what you’ve been going through. Julie told me about the move to Delaware. I even did a google search of your new address and saw the house. Looks like a good place to settle; no horses, too bad.
I’d like to think that as I get towards the end of my life, I can forgive the foibles of my parents, and to a large extent I have. It’s probably a good thing to preserve the best memories of our parents, but I would add the caveat that we shouldn’t hide their hideous sides. Dad was an extremely interesting and intelligent man, most of which he didn’t share with me, and certainly not as much as did with his grandchildren. At least I was able to see and appreciate a lot of this wonderful side before he died. Mother said to me that she only treated me so badly because she loved me so much and wanted me to have a good life. Of course that meant that it had to be her idea of a good life. Sadly I think that only says that she herself was blocked from actually giving and receiving love which makes me sad, but perhaps a bit more understanding. It motivates me to try to be as accepting and loving as I can be, in ways that, for whatever reason, were impossible for her.
I now live in Northern India. It’s really an OK place for a poor man to retire. I can’t afford to live in the United States. There are plenty of things that interest me here, and I have been able to make some great friends, though interestingly very few Americans. I am outside the insanity of life in the States, which is really beyond my comprehension. I don’t know when the level of education about the Republic, about anything, became a thing of the past. I can’t pinpoint a cause, but it seems that America’s days are numbered, or at least the country that we were brought up in. Recent correspondence with your daughter confirms my suspicion that John had sympathy with the fascist right, which doesn’t surprise me, given his level of education and his racism which I could not countenance. Hard for me to believe that we were so different. On the other hand, I do think that both our parents would be far more indulgent of the Trump insanity than either you, me or Julie. The economic drivers of American political life have always favored those with money, but what is so insane to me now is that people with means have been able to co-opt those with next to nothing, exploiting fear and prejudice with nothing in return but more anger and racism.
It’s monsoon. It rains most of every day, the rivers overflow, everything is always wet, and it can get cold. It is certainly a different experience and I’m generally OK with all that. A few things I can’t get used to are the primitive buildings. I moved into a flat owned by a local taxi driver whom I’ve known since I first started visiting with Ashish more that 12 years ago. It’s almost entirely poured concrete with adobe interior walls which makes it a refrigerator in winter. I am in the foothills of the Himalayas so it’s cold, and now in monsoon, the plumbing leaks; there’s even black mold. I’ve had to rip out all the “pipes,'' and replace with something of higher quality. That meant tearing off tiles in all the washrooms and digging new channels into the soft brick walls. A total mess. Plus I have a “full house” water filtration system, reverse osmosis, technology from Germany I think, and as I am the only house in all of McLeod Ganj to have it, it has been a bear to maintain and keep in running order. I’ve managed all this work in translation. LOL. But my water does taste pretty good, and I was able to do it for under 3 K.
Parveen is here to help manage the tile guys. I’ll have to go and check on their work soon. It is always a mystery when things actually get done, but I think we are almost there with another 6 weeks of monsoon, at least.
Again, thanks for the email. Give Charlie my regards. All the best,
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