She had spent the most of her life in the same home as me, but it seems that she was unaware that I had been valedictorian in high school, had a full scholarship to college, and maintained flawless grades despite working numerous jobs for the previous four years.
I softly remarked, “I’ve always been really smart.” “You simply didn’t ask.”
I didn’t mean for that to hit so hard. Marcus cleared his throat after an uncomfortable period of silence.
He continued, “Look, Sarah,” and his typically patronizing tone had vanished. “I believe we should apologize to you. A large one. We haven’t been keeping an eye on your accomplishments.
Mom sounded almost shocked when she remarked, “I mean, you’ve been working multiple jobs, while maintaining perfect grades, while doing research that impressed Harvard Medical School.” And the way we’ve been handling you…
She didn’t need to finish the phrase, so she didn’t. We were all aware of the way they had been handling me.
“Like the disappointment of the family,” I said in a low voice.
Dad grimaced. “That’s not—we never thought you were a disappointment, Sarah, honey.”
I stared at him attentively.
“Dad, you told Mom in a whisper three hours ago that you were finally done squandering money on this failure.”
His face lost its color. I was seated close enough to hear him, but he had forgotten. Perhaps he simply didn’t give a damn at the time.
“I didn’t mean—that was just—I was annoyed about the cost, not about you specifically.”
I went on, “You informed Aunt Linda that Marcus’s legal degree would have been a better use of the funds.” “You introduced me to your coworkers as our daughter who is pursuing a scientific degree.
Marcus received a brand-new BMW from you for graduating from high school, yet you took us to Applebee’s when I was valedictorian.
Every example struck like a blow to the body. I didn’t mean to be unkind, but if we were to have any kind of sincere relationship going forward, we needed to confront the four years of accumulated contempt and dismissal.
“I think we’ve made some serious mistakes in how we’ve supported you,” Mom stated cautiously. or did not help you.
“What comes next is the question now,” I said.”
The question was reasonable. I would be moving to Boston to start medical school in three months. I had eight years of schooling ahead of me, then a fellowship, residency, and perhaps a future in academic medicine. I was going to start a journey that would probably keep me occupied and far away for the next ten years.
Did I want my family to accompany me on that journey? Did they wish to participate in it? If so, how did we mend a relationship that had been founded on their basic misperception of my identity and potential?
