Always and Forever, Being Grateful for our Dearest Darlings

          Above all else, Cris and I are grateful for our children.

They are at the core, the centre from which all else radiates, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Maybe, “somewhere in my youth or childhood/I must have done something good” (Rodgers The Sound of Music) in order to have them travelling with me on the roads of life.

          My children are all adults in their 30s. They listen to me, put up with my longwindedness, unfinished, confusing sentences and repetition, with minimal impatience: “Y’know, you repeat yourself a lot more often than you think you do.” They know better than to believe me when I preface a story by saying I’m going to try to be reasonably concise. Ha!

          They know me better than anyone, yet are still willing to hear what I have to say and truly have my best interests at heart. In turn, I am always willing to hear what they have to say. When asked, they give excellent, thoughtful, we know you very well, advice. 

          Critically important, they get my sense of humour. They get a lot of my references – not all. Some of them, only I get. Oh well. I am free-est when I am among my children. They have seen me at my best and worst, my slobbiest, my crankiest, my most patient, my smartest and increasingly, my most forgetful.

          I am intrigued by them, curious to see where their interests and choices will take them. Will they make the same mistakes I did? I hope not, but who knows . . . 

Let me interject here with my own thoughts about my children. They are approximately 10 – 15 years younger, young adults, but old enough to have just purchased a first car. They are very different, one from the other, but, as Maria has said, they put up with me: my quirks and odd questions, sewing pins left in the sofa cushions, on the floor and in the strangest places, laugh at my humour (so at least I’m not the only one laughing), and we work very well as a team when there is a deadline looming.

All for one, and one for all

the three MUSKETEERS, alexander dumas

Perhaps what I love most about my children is the interesting conversations about everyday life, approaching decisions, checking their “fit”, talking about relationships, cooking recipes, mental health struggles, work and sewing. We make each other laugh and annoy each other too. But underneath is always love. And respect. They are fast maturing and starting to lose the “young” in “young adults”. And with that maturity, they are becoming such kind and generous and thoughtful humans.

While it is true that adult children generally mean more serious adult problems, we are mostly enjoying having children who are grown-up and have their own opinions, advice and journeys.        

Always and forever, have an attitude of gratitude.

The paradox of motherhood: it can be both the most difficult and worrying, yet the most rewarding and joyful aspect of our lives. Please use the Comment area to tell us a little about your experience.