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<blockquote data-quote="bigdmomof3" data-source="post: 311543" data-attributes="member: 100"><p>So I thought I would share it with all the wonderful parents on the board. Hope you all enjoy!</p><p></p><p>WORRY</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for </p><p>> their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can </p><p>> become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, </p><p>> 'It's their life,' and feel nothing?</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> When I was in my twenties , I stood in a hospital corridor waiting </p><p>> for doctors to put a few stitches in my daughter's head. I asked, </p><p>> </p><p>> 'When do you stop worrying?' The nurse said, 'When they get out of </p><p>> the accident stage.' My Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and </p><p>> heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, </p><p>> and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my </p><p>> mind, a teacher said, 'Don't worry, they all go through this stage and </p><p>> then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them.' My dad just smiled </p><p>> faintly and said nothing.</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone </p><p>> to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, </p><p>> 'they're trying to find themselves. Don't worry, in a few years, you </p><p>> can stop worrying. They'll be adults.' My dad just smiled faintly </p><p>> and said nothing.</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> By the time I was 50 , I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was </p><p>> still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle. There </p><p>> was nothing I could do about it. My Dad just smiled faintly and said </p><p>> nothing. I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by </p><p>> their frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> My friends said that when my kids got</p><p>> married I could stop worrying </p><p>> and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by </p><p>> my dad's warm smile and his occasional, 'You look pale. Are you all </p><p>> right? Call me the minute you get home. Are You depressed about </p><p>> something?'</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is </p><p>> concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of </p><p>> human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is </p><p>> it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life?</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, </p><p>> 'Where were you? I've been calling for 3 days, and no one answered I </p><p>> was worried.' I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed.</p><p>> </p><p></p><p>Dee</p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>> </p><p>></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="bigdmomof3, post: 311543, member: 100"] So I thought I would share it with all the wonderful parents on the board. Hope you all enjoy! WORRY > > > > > > > Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for > their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can > become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, > 'It's their life,' and feel nothing? > > > > > > When I was in my twenties , I stood in a hospital corridor waiting > for doctors to put a few stitches in my daughter's head. I asked, > > 'When do you stop worrying?' The nurse said, 'When they get out of > the accident stage.' My Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing. > > > > > > > > > > When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and > heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, > and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my > mind, a teacher said, 'Don't worry, they all go through this stage and > then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them.' My dad just smiled > faintly and said nothing. > > > > > > > > > When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone > to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, > 'they're trying to find themselves. Don't worry, in a few years, you > can stop worrying. They'll be adults.' My dad just smiled faintly > and said nothing. > > > > > > > > > By the time I was 50 , I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was > still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle. There > was nothing I could do about it. My Dad just smiled faintly and said > nothing. I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by > their frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments. > > > > > My friends said that when my kids got > married I could stop worrying > and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by > my dad's warm smile and his occasional, 'You look pale. Are you all > right? Call me the minute you get home. Are You depressed about > something?' > > > > > > Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is > concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of > human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is > it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life? > > > > > > One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, > 'Where were you? I've been calling for 3 days, and no one answered I > was worried.' I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed. > Dee > > > > [/QUOTE]
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