I came across it by chance. In my sock drawer. I don't remember seeing it recently and definitely not in the sock drawer. But there it was and I was immediately taken back to a little room in a house we lived in two houses ago. To a little room that served as a bath space for the baby. The 'it' I found was a baby blue washcloth. Not a new one. Not the kind they sell today. The kind you got at your first baby shower. A little remnant of love. That was 22 years ago. I don't know how or why it showed up. But it did. Looking back brings so many wonderful memories, when they were little and we would worry about bumps and burps and sleep. Back when I was a beginning parent.
Now I've been promoted to Junior Parent. Not really, but a few weeks ago we were invited to "Junior Parents Weekend" a fabulous celebration that precedes graduation, getting all the juniors and families together to see what they are actually up to at college. We were even treated to what they do off-campus (since they are now 21, haha). We had dinners and dances and open houses at their various schools and dorms. We met his teachers and advisors and dorm rectors. But the pivotal moment came to me as the university president addressed the entire assembly. "Parents, you are getting a glimpse into the lives that you have shaped, and the lives your children are now creating for themselves," Fr. Jenkins said. Well, I couldn't stop the tears. It was so beautiful. We have drawn the outline, but they are coloring in the lines now, or maybe outside the lines. It is their picture now, their art and it is beautiful.
So now what? What is our role as parents? I have always believed that there is no Parenting 101. It is Parenting 505 from the get-go. You have no idea! No idea. No map. No guide. And if you grew up in a dysfunctional household, it is not any easier. Or if you think that what you envision as a perfect family is going to be easy, you are in for a surprise. You work your way across a trail with few if any markers. And then you get to a milepost and you think, "Wow." Maybe it is easier than you thought, maybe harder. Maybe there's a rest spot there. Maybe a treat. Maybe there's danger, or darkness. You have to go. You can't wait to move on. And then you keep going. Visiting Jay at school was like a real rest spot and retreat. We had done something, gotten somewhere, accomplished something. I'm not saying it was just us, I'm not saying that we deserve recognition or congratulations or anything. We did nothing more than any other parents. But we got to stop and look out at the view for a few moments and it was incredible. It allowed us a moment to say, Wow. This is his life. This beautiful, amazing life! We could take a breather and look forward and look back. Unbelievable. We made it to Junior Parents.
About ten years ago we visited Acadia in Maine. There was a trail called the Bee Hive trail. It was one of the most treacherous trails. Jason took all four kids. I couldn't do it. I had heard horror stories from friends who had to crawl across a grate that was hundreds of feet in the air over a drop where you would surely die if you fell. I couldn't do it. There was no way. Jason led the kids and they returned safely to the beach below where I waited. I appreciate that he dared to guide them. Now there are places that I can't go with my children. College. Careers. Friends. Life. I can't go. But I trust Jay. I trust the guides who Jay has gathered around him. I appreciate his daring courage and his friends' and teachers' daring courage to continue the journey ahead while I trail behind here at home. He can always come back. He can always turn around and see me cheering him on. And when I find a baby washcloth or a sock or an old art project, I will see all of these remnants of love and know that he has plenty to take on the journey ahead and that will sustain him.
We aren't done. We aren't leaving on a different trail now or anything, but parenting now is different. We are more like spectators, maybe fellow travelers. Now we say, How's it going? That's great. Do you want to share our food? Do you need a spot to rest? No more are we saying, Come this way. Stay close. Not too far. Keep going. Maybe a little further? He's leading now. He knows where he is going and we are on the route cheering him on.
Now I've been promoted to Junior Parent. Not really, but a few weeks ago we were invited to "Junior Parents Weekend" a fabulous celebration that precedes graduation, getting all the juniors and families together to see what they are actually up to at college. We were even treated to what they do off-campus (since they are now 21, haha). We had dinners and dances and open houses at their various schools and dorms. We met his teachers and advisors and dorm rectors. But the pivotal moment came to me as the university president addressed the entire assembly. "Parents, you are getting a glimpse into the lives that you have shaped, and the lives your children are now creating for themselves," Fr. Jenkins said. Well, I couldn't stop the tears. It was so beautiful. We have drawn the outline, but they are coloring in the lines now, or maybe outside the lines. It is their picture now, their art and it is beautiful.
So now what? What is our role as parents? I have always believed that there is no Parenting 101. It is Parenting 505 from the get-go. You have no idea! No idea. No map. No guide. And if you grew up in a dysfunctional household, it is not any easier. Or if you think that what you envision as a perfect family is going to be easy, you are in for a surprise. You work your way across a trail with few if any markers. And then you get to a milepost and you think, "Wow." Maybe it is easier than you thought, maybe harder. Maybe there's a rest spot there. Maybe a treat. Maybe there's danger, or darkness. You have to go. You can't wait to move on. And then you keep going. Visiting Jay at school was like a real rest spot and retreat. We had done something, gotten somewhere, accomplished something. I'm not saying it was just us, I'm not saying that we deserve recognition or congratulations or anything. We did nothing more than any other parents. But we got to stop and look out at the view for a few moments and it was incredible. It allowed us a moment to say, Wow. This is his life. This beautiful, amazing life! We could take a breather and look forward and look back. Unbelievable. We made it to Junior Parents.
About ten years ago we visited Acadia in Maine. There was a trail called the Bee Hive trail. It was one of the most treacherous trails. Jason took all four kids. I couldn't do it. I had heard horror stories from friends who had to crawl across a grate that was hundreds of feet in the air over a drop where you would surely die if you fell. I couldn't do it. There was no way. Jason led the kids and they returned safely to the beach below where I waited. I appreciate that he dared to guide them. Now there are places that I can't go with my children. College. Careers. Friends. Life. I can't go. But I trust Jay. I trust the guides who Jay has gathered around him. I appreciate his daring courage and his friends' and teachers' daring courage to continue the journey ahead while I trail behind here at home. He can always come back. He can always turn around and see me cheering him on. And when I find a baby washcloth or a sock or an old art project, I will see all of these remnants of love and know that he has plenty to take on the journey ahead and that will sustain him.
We aren't done. We aren't leaving on a different trail now or anything, but parenting now is different. We are more like spectators, maybe fellow travelers. Now we say, How's it going? That's great. Do you want to share our food? Do you need a spot to rest? No more are we saying, Come this way. Stay close. Not too far. Keep going. Maybe a little further? He's leading now. He knows where he is going and we are on the route cheering him on.
ReplyDeleteWonderful, Joannie! Go, Jason. You have roots and wings!
Oh Joannie...been there, done that! J.J. has his TRUE NORTH in you, Jason, Annie, Matt and Charlie. He will be and IS fine!
ReplyDeleteI can still remember the day you arrived on this planet and I was thrust into parenthood. With great joy. If ever you need, just turn around. I'm walking right behind you! Love, Mom