Lesson Twelve: We’ll Try Again Tomorrow
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Chapter 5
Conclusion
“When you put faith, hope and love together, you can raise positive kids in a negative world.”
—Zig Ziglar
In attempting to find a way to end, I was paging through Jane Bluestein’s book Mentors, Masters, and Mrs. MacGregor. This book is a collection of entertaining and inspiring stories about teachers and other special people who have made a positive and significant difference in the lives of others. I was drawn to a story that Dr. Bettie Youngs told about what raising her daughter had taught her. She described her parenting days as an arduous, joyful experience that left an indelible mark on her. In her words, “The awesome task of parenting helped me focus on the meaning of my own journey through time and kept me from sleepwalking through life. I learned to live more fully than I might have otherwise and discovered much about myself in the process.”
She goes on to list the specific things that she learned by being a parent to her daughter, Jennifer. I will leave you with her words. She says it all better than I ever could.
“Living with my daughter, loving her and being her soulmate and helpmate has taught me:
Love. By loving her, I tapped into a reservoir of love and found it bottomless. I didn’t know I could love so much. Nor was I aware just how much this emotion would forever bond me to her and motivate me to provide for her.
Joy. As a result of my efforts, I have seen my daughter prosper as a healthy, intelligent and compassionate person.
Happiness. By giving and sharing myself with her, I’ve experienced the deepest level of happiness. I’ve learned that giving is more rewarding than receiving.
Empathy. In seeking to understand my child, I have had to put myself in her place and have learned the meaning of unconditional caring. Sometimes my heart aches as I watch her struggle with a difficult lesson or learn from a harsh consequence.
Patience. In meeting her needs, I have had to care for her when I myself was sick or had other impending responsibilities, I learned that I could. I discovered the unsuspected strength with myself.
To listen. I learned to decipher not only the various tones of my Jennifer’s voice but also her feelings and her subtle behaviors, to hear what she was really saying rather than what I wanted to hear.
To be responsible. Because she is so precious to me, I learned to accept the duties and obligations of being a parent and to accept being depended upon to fulfill them—even at times when I might have preferred doing something else.
To be spiritual. The miracle of life and my daughter’s birth became the catalyst for renewing and deepening my faith. Daily challenges taught me to continually search out my heart and turn my eyes heavenward.
To communicate clearly. Communicating in a clear and concise way is necessary when dealing with children. When other people depend on you at home or at work, communicating clearly is essential.
To live consciously. Because I am constantly observed by my daughter, I must be aware of what my actions and words convey. Setting a good example is an ever-present challenge.
To set priorities. I learned that there is a difference between doing things right and doing the right things. I also learned that while some things must be done, other things are a matter of choice.
The fragility of human life. Though this feeling began with my pregnancy, as soon as Jennifer was born I knew her life was mine to protect and that I was committed to doing so at all costs. As I began to understand and value the fragility of human life, I began to take better care of my own health. I also began to care more about others whose lives are in jeopardy anywhere in the world—from oppression, starvation or war.
The nature of adults. Basically, adults have the same needs and desires as children, though sometimes we express ourselves more subtly. Like children, adults behave in ways that show their needs.
Empathy for parents. Parenthood connects mothers and fathers everywhere. At one time, I sympathized with the parents of sick, crying, injured or missing children; now I feel with them. Parenthood has made me realize that other parents have the same joys and sorrows.
That parenting is forever. When my daughter was an infant, I looked forward to a time when she would be able to play independently. Once she could, she still looked around to see if I was there. When she was in grade school her curiosity was insatiable, and instilling rules for operating safely the world was a must. In junior high, her many activities necessitated frequent bandaging and a daily carpool.
Her questions about her feelings and her need to understand them sometimes made me feel like a clinical psychologist with her as my entire caseload. Now that she is young adult, her need to understand her place in the world and in her relationships through first-hand experience occupies much of her time.
Just as I worried when she was little that she might stick a finger in a light socket or be treated badly by another child, I’m still concerned that she might leave a burner (or an iron or hot rollers) on in the house, or that she or someone else will exercise poor judgment while driving a two-ton car. I still want to protect her from being emotionally devastated in relationships, my concerns will remain for some time—possibility forever.
It was no small task to show my daughter that I both love and respect her, that I accept her for who she is and that my actions were designed to prepare her to live independently. My daily goal has been to build a foundation of self-esteem for her, set appropriate expectations and encourage her to live purposefully. It has taken much examining and refining of my own values to enable me to provide her the skills needed for living a health and functional life.
This daughter of mine—this teacher of mine—is always on my mind. She has inspired me to care enough, to grow enough to meet the challenge of shaping another human life. It was she who taught me to do this in a way that would make her feel my loving actions and therefore assimilate them.
Being a parent, nurturing a human being, has taught me the greatest lessons I’ve ever learned. Thank you, Jennie, for choosing me to help you find your way in this world—and for teaching me how to do it. Though I was the parent, it was you who were my teacher. You are the greatest teacher of all.”
My thanks to Dr. Youngs. I hope that you have found the learning experience rewarding and enjoyable. I wish you the very best success in your parenting efforts. Just remember to stay calm, positive, and supportive—even if one day your child bounces up to you and proudly proclaims, “I decided what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a duck!"
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