Sunday, August 3, 2008

Something Worth Sharing...

My cousin sent me this piece and I thought it was worth sharing with you...

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son'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. I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.
My Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.


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!

Now...let's get some fresh coffee.

6 comments:

blondie said...

Sure got a lump in my throat reading that one.
Thanks Jim for the memories :)
blondie

HermitJim said...

Hey Blondie...thanks for stopping by. It's hard to not see the real in a piece like this. I think that we all recall these feelings from some point in our lives. I know I did.

Thanks again...
Jim

js said...

Well Jim, it would help if folks started to understand that this is yet another dream, like any other.

By this I mean that this realm is a dreamworld. Just like the nocturnal ones.

Once you start to appreciate that, you stop worrying. After all, when you wake up from your nocturnal dreams do you worry about the folks you left behind in those dreams?

I doubt it.

js

PS: That does not mean you have a free license to be incensitive, that's not what am implying.

HermitJim said...

Hey John...thanks for coming by and for the comments. I appreciate it.

Jim

Anonymous said...

Hermitjim - good reading. My Mom used to say "someday you will understand when you have children!"
How true. And now my has to reach that stage with his children - will be a few years - but already he has noticed how he has more responsibility and perhaps worry.
I just chuckle !!

HermitJim said...

Hey Myrna...it's funny how much smarter our parents get as we get older, huh? Bill Cosby used to say that the nice things about grand children was that you could spoil them rotten and then send them home with mom and dad.

Sweet revenge...they will learn as parents all do.

Thanks for coming by
Jim