Any parent knows that in the final analysis, there’s no guarantee you’ll have Nice Kids. I'm one of the lucky ones.
My son Eric married a lovely girl from
While he was growing up, I was the Queen of the Worriers. I was a single parent, so I was always agonizing over something: how I must be a bad parent, or how I couldn’t afford to do different things for him I'd have liked to do, or what he might wind up being like as an adult. There was always something to be concerned over. Eric always said he didn't worry, because he knew I did enough worrying for the two of us.
In some ways, Eric really raised me. I was a young mother, and I used to tell him, “You know, there’s no book telling me the right way to do this. We’re both learning how this all works.” He took everything in stride, and he was always thoughtful, sensitive and kind, even as a little kid. I often tell people, when I describe how pleasant he is now, that even if he weren’t my son, I would want him as a friend, and I mean that.
Now,…that said, I don’t want you getting the wrong impression. As much as I was the Stress Queen, he is the King of Sarcasm and Humor. He makes me laugh…always has.
Once, when he was very small, I was in my 20’s, and I had had a particularly tiring day, stressing out more than usual, and I said to him, “Eric, your mother’s getting old.” I suppose I was looking for some sort of comforting words. He looked up at me, and without blinking an eye, he nodded his head, and very matter-of-factly said: “Mmmm…soon, you’ll be dying!” with an almost cheerful lilt to it. He didn't seem remotely phased by that notion. He's made me laugh, and he's made me proud over the years. I love him very much.
“Families are like fudge—mostly sweet with a few nuts.” (author unknown)