We all have “family stuff” but some have more than their fair share. Witness my friend Paul, who have I known for 23 years. He comes from a family of Hungarian Jews who barely escaped the Holocaust and, then 10 years later, sneaked across the border to the West during the height of the Cold War. His dad became a very driven, uber-successful Wall Street stockbroker while his mom ended up being an equally accomplished physician. Paul’s older brother – a near genius with perfect SAT scores – passed away of AIDS, in his 30s, leaving Paul alone to deal with some very large personalities, his parents’ considerable grief and often suffocating expectations. How did Paul deal with all this craziness? He did what any smart kid would do: he ran away to the West Coast, three big time zones from his family. Yet Paul’s dad found him, calling every Sunday morning in his controlling way. Realizing that this strategy wasn’t working, Paul got smart: rolling up his sleeves, he got down to work…on himself. He found a shrink, looked honestly and critically at his family dynamics and his role in it, started setting strong boundaries with his parents, allowed himself to grieve his brother’s passing, and identified the qualities in a he wanted in a partner, and dated until he met his wonderful wife, Kristi, in his 40s. This process took many years, requiring lots of perseverance and energy. But it worked in the end.
The above photo, from this summer, is a picture of Paul, his father a few days away from death, and Paul’s 5-month-old son. Three generations together, happily, because he had the courage to do the work necessary to face life, heal, and love.
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