 |
| I call this photo "Family on the Rocks" because that's what it is, nothing more. |
I have my own idea about when I can survey my work as a dad, but I’d really
like to hear from you. Email me or post a comment on Facebook. In the meantime,
I’d like to share a couple grades I’ve gotten along the way.
My mom will turn 98 in a couple months. Up until February 2012, she had lived with us
for the prior 13 years. She intimately
knew the dynamics of our family. Soon
after she moved in with my wife, my four boys, and me she made a rare comment
about my parenting.
“I think, sometimes, you are too hard on the boys.”
At the time the boys were 2, 4, 10, 12 years old. They were just what they should be, rambunctious,
energetic, occasionally challenging, but generally delightful kids. I gently responded to my mom, “Look at those
boys, do they seem unhappy? Do they seem
like they're afraid to take a wrong step?”
Mom smiled broadly and simply said, “Well, no
they don’t. Not at all.”
That was my “first quarter” parenting grade. Mom was just being a loving mother in her
admonition to me, but if “the proof is in the pudding”, a quick look at the
well-being of my sons indicated that they were doing just fine and I was being
a good dad.
Fast forward a decade and a half. Mom is now in a nursing home. She has forgotten that she has a family, still full of happy, rambunctious boys.
We made a rare, out-of-town excursion for Thanksgiving. All of us (six Smiths plus a daughter-in-love
and very welcome girlfriend) held up for 40 hours or so in a small house on a
lake in southern Missouri.
I hear horror stories of family gatherings ruined by assorted
broken family dynamics. A common punch
line is “the drunk uncle”. I’ve never
had to deal with something like that – or fighting parents or siblings. I know it happens all the time. I’m sorry if that’s part of your family
story. All I can think is what a
calamity it would be for a Mom and a Dad to look out over the Thanksgiving
table at people who couldn’t get along with one another (or within themselves,
sometimes).
This was the first time our family has gathered like this –
all young adults, all with their own quirks and peculiar interests, all
together for the holiday. I’m happy to
say I got another passing grade on this one.
The house was filled with uproarious laughter and good-natured heckling
every moment we were awake. No druncles,
no fights, no wound someone wouldn’t let heal. It was perfect.
I’m not claiming all the credit for this harmony. People have to want to get along. I’m just glad that was their choice. I loved it.
My wife was blessed by the peace and joy that bound the family together.
Personally, I think Dad’s final grade comes when his own child
is the parent of a young adult (a grandfather for 20 years or so). At that
point, you have raised a child who has raised a child. You find what your own son or daughter has
received from you and passed on to their child.
I’m not there, yet. I’m
still a generation away from truly discovering the value of my parenting. But I just got “mid-term” grade and I’m kind
of excited about it. I’d love to show my
grade report to my mom. She’d be so
proud of me. And, in turn, she’d see that she got
an “A” on her own final exam.
Clark H Smith
