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Sunday
March 2010
14
Community Blogs
I'm a mom of a 15-year-old daughter and a very energetic golden retriever. I lean to the right, but I don't plan on making this blog about politics unless issues demand. I do plan on discussing those things that life throws at us, from the trivial to the troubling. My goal is also to keep things relevant by keeping them local, but like the politics thing, I may draw outside of those lines from time to time. I enjoy people and their stories, because we all have one, and look forward to sharing and hearing about more.
Paying it forward
I'll readily admit it: I am a fiercely independent person, and this has been a tough year to swallow. Unemployment creates a vulnerability that I am just not used to, nor comfortable with. However, my drive to survive supercedes any pride, and perhaps that is the whole point. Lose the pride, admit your need for others and above all your Creator, and the rest will fall into place.
I have had a couple of conversations with my parents, who are all too selfless and willing to help me out, leaving me deeply thankful, but also deeply frustrated that I've fallen so short. Inevitable comparisons crop up over what they were able to accomplish at my age (44) and how as a kid I never felt worried over what tomorrow would bring.
My own daughter has witnessed my angst, and I know it does worry her, too. So I was nearly knocked off my feet when she asked if we could have a talk the other night, and what the topic ended up to be.
She attends Catholic Memorial and during Advent they have been offering more opportunities for communal and individual prayer. This day she told me she decided to go to confession, and her great sin was in not helping me more around the house.
"You're not doing the dishes after supper because you're doing homework and working on projects," I tried to reassure her.
"But you do so much for me, and I give you nothing," she said, and burst into tears.
Ironically, I had said the same thing to my parents earlier in the year, and I knew exactly how she felt. However, I also gained an insight into my parents' own incredulous response.
"You make me proud, every day...that is what you give me," I told her, hearing the echo of my mom's voice in my head.
I'd like to say this was enough to satisfy her, but in the one-way mirror of parent-child relationships, I also knew there was no way to convince her, just as I couldn't believe my own parents' response, which was quite similar.
If this is a measure of doing parenting right, then I do feel reassured. In the meantime, I will hope that my daughter has a similar conversation with her own children somewhere down the road.
Aw, man, now you made me cry!!
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