Archive for the Tag 'parents'

Mar 18 2010

Posted by under Feel Good,Humor,Reality,Tips

Worry

WORRY 
 

Is there a magic cutoff period when  

offspring become accountable for their own

actions?  Is there a wonderful moment when

parents can become detached 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

corridor waiting for doctors to put a few

stitches in my daughter'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. My

Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.  I

continued to anguish over their failures, be

tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in

their disappointments. 
 

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 alright?  

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.


 

PASS IT ON TO OTHER WONDERFUL PARENTS.

(And also to your children. That's the fun!)

No Comments »

Nov 24 2008

Posted by under Feel Good,Humor,Reality

WORRY

Subject: WORRY

 

 

A friend sent this to me and I thought ya’ll would enjoy it.

 

WORRY

 

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their

own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached

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 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 Mom/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 Mom/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 Mom/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.  My Mom/Dad just smiled faintly and said nothing.  I

continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their frustrations

and absorbed in their disappointments.

 

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 Mom/Dad’s

warm smile and their 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.

 

 

PASS IT ON TO OTHER WONDERFUL PARENTS

(And also to your children. That’s the fun part)

1 Comment »

Nov 22 2008

Posted by under Humor

THANKSGIVING DIVORCE

A man in Phoenix calls his son in New  York the day before Thanksgiving and says," I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough." 
   
"Pop, what are you talking about?" the son screams.  "We  can’t stand 
the sight of each other any longer," the father says.  "We’re  sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister  in Chicago and tell  her." 
   
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone.  "Like heck 
they’re getting divorced," she shouts, "I’ll take care of  this." 
   
She calls Phoenix immediately, and screams  at her father, "You are NOT getting divorced.  Don’t do a single thing  until I get there.  I’m 
calling my brother back, and we’ll both be there  tomorrow.  Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?" and hangs  up. 
   
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife.  "Okay,"  he says, "they’re coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own  way."  

1 Comment »

E-Mail from Grandma - Blogged