"And there’s this: parents who, particularly in this country, are expected to be superhuman, to raise children who outpace all their peers, don’t want to see what we see. The long truth about their children, about themselves: that none of it is forever."None of it is forever. A sharp reminder in a compact phrase.
Parenting is a profession that seems to wax and wane with the cycles of the moon. Just when you think you have it licked, some other challenge comes along to remind you that in fact, you know nothing and your previous success in raising your child is proof to the saying that even a blind squirrel sometimes finds a nut. At least that is my experience. Also, it seems that the older my child gets, the faster the race becomes between my feelings of abject incompetence and a vague sense that he might not need too much therapy as an adult.
I know that Ms. Rapp’s momento mori is a reminder to cherish every precious moment, every milestone, every loving word. But for me, tonight, it is a reminder that the hour-long struggle at bedtime, the tantrums over a twenty five cent toy in a vending machine, the pouting face and the shouted words, they are not forever either. And for someone out there, they would be a gift. How many parents or would-be parents would love to give a time-out to an absent or wished-for child? Even at my most exhausted, my most frustrated, I am blessed beyond measure. I may not remember it in the moment, but I am blessed all the same.
So how do I carry this lesson, slung over my hip or hanging from my neck, a burden I both cherish and long to lay down? How do I live in the moment of gratitude when I have used up my happy-crappy on everyone but my family? No answer except this, none of it is forever. The grass withers, the flower fades and all my failures and accomplishments will come to nothing, except maybe this one thing. I’m his mom and he’s my kid and sometimes I don’t totally screw it up. I guess for now that will have to suffice.
Posts
