This, being the end of May, I’ve been reading a lot about graduations, which makes many of us consider so many milestones. When your child graduates, either from high school or college or trade school, our parental feathers fluff up a bit. We’re all too happy to take some credit for their success, as we should. But in that pride also comes reflection on how they, we, got to this point in the first place. And go figure, yesterday while I was cleaning out my office (a monumental feat in itself worthy of a diploma!) I came across an essay I wrote about the good, and the “challenging,” moments of parenthood called “As Good As It Gets” published way back in 1994 when my girls were just three and six years old. (If you’d like to read the complete article, see my web site www.deannaadams.com under “Essays”.)
Reading it as a much older mom whose little girls are now grown women, I had to smile when I came across this passage:
“The real joy [of parenthood] is knowing my husband and I are the center of our children’s world. I love the fact that I’m the one they turn to whether they are happy or sad, and that they tell me everything on their minds—something I’m fairly certain won’t be true one they reach adolescence. This is the only time I still have control over their actions, when they believe all I tell them, and are more affectionate towards me that they’ll probably ever be in the future. Perhaps the best part is the evenings, after they finally are asleep and I sneak in their rooms to watch over them. I stand beside their beds gazing upon my little angels (see, the mind does play tricks on you) all tucked secure and safe and I treasure the feeling of knowing where they are and what they are doing. A luxury I realize I won’t always have.”
You know what? I was wrong about all of that. Now fully out of their teen years (when they restricted their hugs and kisses), our girls are still affectionate toward me and their dad. And while I was right about no longer having control over their actions, I like to believe they hear my motherly voice in their heads whenever they are tempted to do something they know isn’t right. And even though one has been out of the house and on her own for years, and the other has a job, boyfriend and social life, I still know where they are most times, thanks to this marvelous invention not many parents had back then: cell phones.
I was wrong about another thing, too. Those days when they were so sweet, so loving, so good-natured, didn’t in fact end at age 13 (though, as we all know, there were detours). Once they are grown, there are so many other rewards to be had. Happy tears to shed. Loving hugs to bask in.
At the end of that essay I wrote, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Wrong again. As we see our kids move on with their own life and succeed in life, if we’re indeed lucky, it does get better. Because we’ve raised decent human beings who will lead the way into the future of the world.
And that, my friends, is as good as it gets.
Quote of the day: “If I fail at raising my children properly, then I have failed in life.” Jacqueline Kennedy.
