I was at a Saturday team-building workshop two weeks ago with folks from a non-profit I work with, and in a small group we were invited to write down 5 questions to ask each other. I received a total of 15 but only had to answer 2 (so it was safe :)), but there was one I didn’t choose that kept haunting me…. “If I were to ask one of your children, ‘If you could change one thing about your parent, what would it be?’, what would your child say?”
My “children” are now 28 & 30, and I almost dismissed it with the thought, “That train has left the station.” After this weekend, I’ve decided I was wrong. It’s still a good question to consider…and maybe even ask!
This past weekend two things happened. I was very involved in the wedding of my “in-town daughter”. No, she is not my biological daughter, but I’ve been a mother-figure to her these past seven years in the absence of her mother who lives out-of-state. The other event that happened over the weekend is that one of my sons got engaged.
During the past few months, I have carefully observed my “in-town” daughter’s emotional reaction to her parent’s response to the engagement and wedding plans. I also reflected on my parent’s reaction to my engagement to my spouse (34 years ago). And suddenly, I had the opportunity to respond to my son’s engagement news.
One thing is true of all 3 scenarios…we all love our children. But what is the nature of that love, and, more importantly, how do our children experience our love even when we might not be totally on board or “pleased”? David Brooks, in his NYT op-ed piece (4/24/15), “Love and Merit”, wrote about love which is based on performance (merit) and that which is represents unconditional support (grace).
When my boyfriend (now husband of 33 years) asked for my hand in marriage, it was given, but shortly before the wedding, my Dad delivered what we now refer to as the “unblessing”. My Dad grew up in the Depression and he was very concerned about our direction in life. To summarize: we were making a big mistake and ten years from now we would wake up and realize that he was right. He concluded his speech with this promise: “I won’t say I told you so.” Now, at age 95, Dad claims he said no such thing and he has become a big fan of our marriage and the grandchildren/great-grand that it has produced. But his words seared into my mind those first ten years and I was out to prove him wrong. I can testify to these words penned by David Brooks in his op-ed,
At key decision-points, they unconsciously imagine how their parents will react. They guide their lives by these imagined reactions and respond with hair-trigger sensitivity to any possibility of coldness or distancing. These children tell their parents those things that will elicit praise and hide the parts of their lives that won’t.
After that ten-year mark, I forgave, let go, and refocused my energy. I realized that there was something to be learned and gained even from the difficulties and disappointments in life. What Paul Tillich penned is true, “Suffering introduces you to yourself and reminds you that you are not the person you thought you were.” And I was grateful for the opportunity to become a better person for my own children.
So today, I can say with all honesty that I am not only pleased, but delighted with my son’s choice of a mate. I communicated that as clearly as enthusiastically as I could this past weekend, but I am well aware that there will be times when he might make a decision or craft a plan that I think is ill-conceived. Ah, this is the true test of my love. What will I do then?
I leave you with David Brooks’ powerful conclusion (which I take as my personal challenge as I continue to be the parent of two adult sons):
Parents two generations ago were much more likely to say that they expected their children to be more obedient than parents today. But this desire for obedience hasn’t gone away; it’s just gone underground. Parents are less likely to demand obedience with explicit rules and lectures. But they are more likely to use love as a tool to exercise control…. Parents desperately want happiness for their children and naturally want to steer them toward success in every way they can. But the pressures of the meritocracy can sometimes put this love on a false basis. The meritocracy is based on earned success. It is based on talent and achievement. But parental love is supposed to be oblivious to achievement. It’s meant to be an unconditional support — a gift that cannot be bought and cannot be earned. It sits outside the logic of the meritocracy, the closest humans come to grace.
BTW, I did exercise some courage and asked both of my adult sons the question, “If you could change one thing about me, what would it be?” One son’s answer reflected the past. He said, “You had the tendency to micromanage and worry about the decisions I was making. It’s much better now, but back when I was a teenager, I wish you would have showed your trust in me by giving me more responsibility and independence.” The other son’s response was looking toward the future. He said, “I wish you would learn to relax and let others do for you.” Good data and a great opportunity for growth…even now!