Sweet Boy
Did you know I still have your pacifier in my sock drawer? It has lived there since the day you stopped using it. Moved from house to house and city to city, along with my socks. Most days I don't notice it, but sometimes I do, when I'm digging around looking for something. It's a reminder to think of you, and I always do, and you know what? It reminded me of you when I saw it even before this whole Iraq business and before you grew up and moved away.
And now you're going to be catching the pacy is it flies through the air, and relying on the stupid thing so you can get a few hours' sleep.
You've never given me any reason to worry about you, Son. Except maybe that one year at the UofA...not to bring up painful memories, but even then I knew you'd grow up eventually. That's what being a parent is about--having hope for the future, NOT expectations, but HOPE. Expectations lead to argument and disappointment. But hope, it's a mutual thing.
happy. healthy. responsible. That was my hope for you and your brothers. I wrote it down a lot of places when it was just you, Jon and I. Maybe I'll hunt one of those notebooks up so I can see where I've been.
happy. healthy. responsible. Principles that I held dear, which informed my behavior. Sometimes I didn't use the right rules to apply the principles, and the outcomes didn't line up. Rules are such inadequate tools, anyway. On balance, though, I'm satisfied, and my only regrets lie where you find me lacking.
All of us find our parents lacking in one way or another. I try not to take it personally. For the hurts you harbor which I don't know about, I apologize. And for those I know. My greatest hope for you now is that you have the opportunity to apologize to your kids, someday.
I rejoice in your sense of responsibility and I'm envious of your startling good health. Are you happy, son? I hope so.
Love,
Mom
posted by Karen Ann @ 7:47 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home