Is there an imaginary cutoff period when your children become accountable for their own actions? Is there some wonderful moment when parents can become just spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, 'It's Their life,' and feel nothing?
When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital emergency room waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in Brad's forehead and I asked,'When do you stop worrying?' The nurse said, 'When they get out of the accident stage.. Don't worry.'
When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and heard how my child was making funny faces to try to get the other kids to laugh, disrupting the class. Was my little blonde angel headed for a career making license plates? As if to read my mind, the teacher said, 'Don't worry, they all go through this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them.'
When I was in my forties, I spent a few nights waiting for the phone to ring, the car to come home, the front door to open. A friend said,'They're trying to find themselves. 'Don't worry! In a few years, they'll be adults. 'They'll be off on their own and you won't have to worry anymore'.
By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of feeling sick and tired. I was still worrying over my child. But there was a new problem...Even though he was on his own, I continued to anguish over his failures, and I was totally absorbed in his disappointments..And there was nothing I could do about it.
My friends said that when my son got married I could stop worrying and lead my own life. Oh Lord, I wanted to believe that. My friends said that when I became a grandparent that I would get to enjoy the happy little voices yelling Grammy and PopPop!
But now I find that I worry just as much about the little kids as the big ones.
How can anyone cope with all this worry?
Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry?
Recently, my son Brad, became a little irritable, saying to me, 'Where were you? I've been calling all day and no one answered. I was worried.'
I smiled (just a little).