I don’t want to sound too ungrateful. Despite their shortcomings (we all have them, don’t we?!), my parents did their best to raise me. They loved me, treated me decently, provided for my needs, nurtured my strengths, and gave me the freedom I needed to become the independent person I am. I look at my life and think, I was pretty lucky to have such an upbringing, especially when I see what many other people have had to endure.
At the same time, I sometimes wonder why my parents felt so compelled to pass on their faulty DNA. I look at the psychological problems they passed on to me, and I wonder why anyone would want to force that on another person. I listen to my mom’s laundry list of health problems - some of which I have had the pleasure of experiencing myself - and I wonder how many more of these problems I have to look forward to as I age.
There was a particular sting over the week of Christmas when I had to make an emergency trip to the dentist. When I described the ordeal to my mother, she shared that she had the exact same problem with the exact same teeth and that it must run in our family. I couldn’t help but think, “Gee, thanks, mom. You couldn’t have adopted a little Chinese girl abandoned at the side of the road; you just had to replicate and pass this trait on to me.”
I realize that I’m still in decent health overall, which is more than many people can say. I should be grateful, and I am. Yet I cannot help but think that my own lack of reproduction is the greatest act of compassion toward my potential offspring. Some “gifts” are better off not being given.
