The Children They Were

Nothing has ever tugged at my heart like my children.  They were, as babies, toddlers and youngsters, the most beloved creatures in my life.  I cherished every day with them, even the tough ones, because I knew how precious, how fleeting it was.

 Ages 2 and 3

The boys are men now; young men in their early 20s.  They are no longer mine to protect, to hold in my arms, to keep safe.  They have their own ideas with which I don't always agree and that is to be expected.  It's a balancing act of loving the children they were and the adults they've become.  As little guys, I loved them in no small part due to their dependence and need of me.  As a parent, I have to learn to adjust, accept and love what they are becoming without too many expectations.  I have to learn to love with an open hand.

This brings to mind a favorite book, "The Art of Loving" by Erich Fromm, a German psychologist and philosopher. Published in 1956, it was a must-read in college.  Fromm posited many theories about love including:      

• Love is a skill that can be taught and developed.
• The active character of true love involves four basic elements: care, responsibility, respect, and knowledge
• Loving oneself through understanding, acceptance and personal responsibility is key to loving another person
• He is skeptical of exclusive love in which one loves another person to the exclusion of all else.

His most debated and quoted concept is his differentiation between immature and mature love.

"Immature love says 'I love you because I need you.'  Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.'"

Need vs love.  Do I need them because I love them or love them because I need them? 

I read a short article by a woman who said her mother taught her she would never have to lie to her because it would always be okay to tell the truth.  She promised her truth without punishment.  This courageous, some might say "silly" mother allowed her child to sneak out of the house at two in the morning when she was 14 years old.  The girl had told her mother her friends wanted to do it and asked permission.  Her mother let her go but asked that she call after an hour to let her know she was okay.  She never told her friends her mother was in on it.  This scenario played through her teenage years and she says it made her incredibly responsible.

Now, I learned the  "Ask forgiveness instead of permission" way.  When it came to my father, it was all about after the fact.  I could not tell him who I was, what I was up to, where I was really going or anything else.  No sir. He'd have locked me away for four years: 14-18.  I'm sure he wishes he had. 

My mother was another story.  When I was 17, after a high school career of "Let's see how much I can experiment and live."  my mother took me to lunch one day, reached across the table, took my hand and said, 

"No matter what you do or who you become, I will always love and respect you."

These were the most important words my mother ever spoke.  They gave me self esteem and self respect.

So here I am 20+ years later, hoping I've done the job I wanted to do.  Much love flows between us and they seem unafraid to express themselves emotionally.  We never speak with one another without saying "I love you."  That's a good thing.   My husband and I will take full credit for that!

      Clear Lake, CA. ca 1992  1st water ski lessons & holding the "skiier down" flag