Parenting is a job that never ends.
If you are a parent, you know exactly what I mean; if you are not a parent, you’re probably rolling your eyes right about now. Fair enough.
Being the parent of a youngster is a tough job in this modern era because there are so many perils to consider: food allergies, bullies, predators to name just a few. And one day you hear the horrible news about a bus accident and the hearts of all parents shudder and stop for an instant. Then, the instinct kicks in to hug your loved ones just a little tighter and pray for those suffering from the unspeakable tragedy.
Back home the kids grow up. Toddlers turn into teens and then, one day, the band is playing “Pomp and Circumstance” and it’s your kid walking across the stage. You might think you, too, are graduating.
But you never do.
Case in point: Holly traveled to California over the Thanksgiving weekend to see a friend. As much as she DOESN’T want to hear this, her parents were keenly aware of her travel schedule and hoping all was going well every step of the way. Only when her mother saw some online activity late that night did she finally rest easily.
In a like manner, when Paul drove back to college on Sunday – traditionally, the heaviest travel day in America – she was equally on pins and needles until she received the “made it back” text message.
Even parents of young adults aren’t immune. And, not surprisingly, parents of middle agers feel the same way.
My dad spent much of the day with me in surgery two weeks ago and he offered to take me back for an upcoming re-check.
On the day of my procedure, he sat with me in recovery and he drove me home later that afternoon and made sure I was safely inside. As much as she wanted to be there, Lisa’s teaching schedule just wouldn’t allow for it. I was understanding of those demands.
And part of the reason I had no worries is because I knew I had my dad to lean on.
Just the week before, Lisa was visiting with her father. When she went to the kitchen to fix lunch for the two of them, she received a key piece of advice as she prepared to slice a juicy ripe tomato: “Be careful. Don’t accidentally slice your hand.”
Even that day – in the most non-threatening of environments – Lisa’s pop was watching out for her. Parenting, you see, is a job that never ends.
What is the take-away? What is a sensible balance for involved and caring parents such as ourselves (and you) without becoming jaded and detached OR becoming some of those overly involved helicopter parents we hear so much about? You know the ones; even though their kids are now legal adults and are enrolled in college, they know everything about their activities and whereabouts?
You don’t want to become either of those parents.
For one thing, I think communication is key. And some healthy give and take. The text we received from Paul was a considerate gesture on his part.
A second factor is that we parents have to realize the act of separation has always been there. It’s just different now in the digital age.
I’ve often wondered if George and Lou Valentine felt the same angst when their young daughter, Mary, headed off to the big city with her new husband around 1910. And I wondered what they felt when their worst fears were confirmed just a few short years later as she moved back to their community, stricken with a dread disease she contracted in the selfsame city.
I thought a lot about that when I was out in the woods in Northern Mississippi two months ago.
On a larger scale, can you imagine how parents in the 1940s felt about sending their children off to war? Or how pioneers felt about saying goodbye as their adult children headed west knowing that, quite honestly, they might never see them again.
The pioneer kids also ran the risk of slicing their hand, accidentally. The difference is they didn’t have the option to send a text message saying “Made it!”
JG
Originally posted 12/2/2014
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