Childish things

When I was a child, I spoke as a child. I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. - The Bible*

Parenting is hard. Childhood is no picnic either.

What about when you're both?

It's interesting to me that the English language has never produced a collective term that refers to grown sons and daughters with any degree of emotional attachment:

Offspring? Too animal kingdom.

Descendants? Too Ancestry.com.

Spawn? Too marine biology.

Those are OK for scientists and farmers but not for cocktail parties.

"Yeah, Ernie, my descendants are both gainfully employed and seem to enjoy their work."

"Hard to believe Anna's offspring are all married now. How time flies."

Funny thing about the word, "child." Even as grown adults, we're still regarded as someone else's children. IMHO we a need better descriptor to specify the right parts of the family tree. To distinguish between emerging twigs and fully-formed branches.

Long ago, a friend mused out loud about the "agony and ecstasy of parenting." His comment came when we were both young parents raising little ones. Sunny days full of giggles and laugher? Easy. Stormy days with scuffed knees and mean girls? Not so much.

We're older now, but the sentiment holds up. Our grown children's triumphs are our celebrations. Their heartbreak is our agony. As a newly-minted Empty Nester, what am I to do with the realization that my children are growing into their own adulthood? Think, Tom, think...

I've got it! Let them.

Let them explore.

Let them evolve.

Let them revel.

Let them mess up.

Let them know how interested we are in their lives - because they matter that much to us.

And yes, let them know they have a safe place to return to whenever they need it.

My own journey as parent and child has been rife with missteps. As a child, I thought I knew it all. As a parent, my cluelessness increases with each passing day. If you haven't experienced true humility beforehand, parenthood will surely deal it to you in spades. And if you don't experience it as a parent, well then don't kid yourself: You're not really trying.

After a lot of personal work, I've reached a conclusion about healthy "adulting."

We may spend the first half of life blaming others for our hardships.

But the second half is for taking responsibility.

Here's to those of us who hang in there - as parents, as children, as adults - time after time after time. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to pull on my Big Boy pants. And try again.

Companion track (click to play):

*Of course it's 1 Corinthians: 13:11, but that's too precise and not nearly irreverent enough