The Realisation
“You talk to your parents every day?” John asked Sherry, clearly amazed. “Yes, sir. How else am I going to stay connected with them? How will they know what’s happening in my life?”
This perspective was entirely new to John. The idea of sharing daily updates, talking about how his day had been, and expressing feelings was foreign to him. Sherry felt like an oasis in the desert of John’s emotional numbness. She was a beacon in his tunnel of darkness. Despite being his subordinate in a prestigious law firm, Sherry never tried to climb the ladder by being inauthentic. She was unapologetically herself, and this authenticity made John admire her deeply.
John had always been exceptionally intelligent. His parents, recognizing his potential, pushed him toward academic excellence. From getting into Harvard Law to establishing his own firm, he was a self-made man, now one of the country’s most renowned lawyers. But as his career drove the car of his life, his emotions took a back seat. Conversations with his parents had revolved around academic achievements and career prospects, with little room for personal connection. In their quest to make him a hero, John’s parents forgot to nurture his humanity. They overlooked the importance of being there for him in a non-professional way.
John’s marriage to Susie was a product of this same pragmatic approach. Susie often felt neglected and sidelined. Although she lacked for nothing materially, she longed for emotional connection. She wept in front of her parents, lamenting that if they merely wanted her to be provided for, she could have been married to a shopping mall instead of a man. When John came home one evening, his mother excitedly told him, “We’ve found the perfect match for you, Susie, who lives down the lane. Her parents would love for her to marry you. Congratulations!” The idea of questioning or expressing feelings was foreign to John, as his life had been shaped by career ambitions rather than personal connections.
Marriage to Susie never held much meaning for John. Their relationship lacked depth, and Susie often felt like she was married to a ghost. When they had two children, Anna and Andrew, Susie found emotional fulfillment in caring for them, while John saw them as his heirs. However, his busy schedule kept him from sharing in their significant moments. His conversations with them were limited to academics: “Have you done your homework? How is school? Did you top the class?” He rarely inquired about their personal experiences or feelings.
As the children grew, they became accustomed to their father’s absence. John, realizing he had neglected his family, began to make an effort to reconnect. He started staying home more often and asking about their future plans, trying to bridge the gap he had created. At a dinner table, John tentatively asked, “What do you plan for the future? Any thoughts about becoming a lawyer? I can help you out.” Anna and Andrew were stunned by their father’s sudden interest. Anna spoke up, “Dad, I want to be a writer, and Andrew wants to pursue journalism. We’ve already discussed this with Mom.” John was taken aback. “But why didn’t you tell me? We could have navigated this together.” Andrew added, “We wanted to, but you were never around. You were always on the phone or rushing off. We’re grateful for what you provide, but you were never really there.”
John felt as if the ground had been pulled from under him. He was overwhelmed by a mix of anger and sadness, not knowing how to process these emotions. His family had learned to live without him, and now he was a stranger trying to fit in. He felt guilt, regret, and confusion all at once.
The next day at work, John was visibly distraught. He found no meaning in his work as he realized how distant he was from his own children. He shared his feelings with Sherry, hoping her emotional intelligence could guide him. Sherry spoke about her own family and the dynamics she maintained. “Of course, it’s tough with parents,” she said with a giggle. “They don’t always get your style or your choices, but it’s about spending time together. If you set boundaries, relationships can break. But if you let them breathe, they come back to you because you’re making it easier for them to stay connected. Authority can only go so far, love conquers all.”
John listened in awe. “Sherry, you’re incredibly insightful. Thank you for this. Stick around a little longer—I need someone to help me navigate this emotional compass of mine. Mine seems to have broken long ago.” Sherry smiled and shared one last piece of wisdom: “Children never come for you; they come through you. They’re like birds—staying in the nest until they’re ready to fly on their own. All you can do is be there with open arms when they choose to come back home.”
