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Tuesday, 04 July 2006



It's awful to have so much to lose, isn't it? As they grow up, a major skill is learning to go to sleep when you don't know where they are. I'm able to do it now, after a few years of training. But when I hear him come home, if I hear it, it's like everything in me lets down and I realize that I hadn't been relaxed until I heard his footsteps downstairs. Eventually I'll be past this stage too, I suppose.

I used to think one couldn't possibly love an adult child the way one loves a cuddly baby, but now I find that if anything it's even worse. Or better. Better-worse. You have to let go with both hands and find a way to live with it.


Great post. This parenting thing is a pretty consuming thing. It gives you everything -- gain, loss, pleasure and pain, love and total blue-in-the-face frustration. It really just gives you life in all of its fullness. But sometimes it's hard to grasp it all -- thank goodness for those fleeting moments that stand still sometimes.


We'll never be responsible for anything more important than human life. (We might be the only ones rearing intelligent beings in the entire universe). Forms of entertainment that depict a parent losing a child mean much more to me now than before I had my own.

I would never want to suggest that one person is more important than another, but as parents, we have a weight on us that a non-parent can never know, as well as joy they can never hope to comprehend. (I'm not talking only biological parents here, so all you guardians and adopters and foster parents, don't get all uproarish. Still, though, I would argue that the happiness quotient is higher for the bio's.)


Ah, Jim Croce. You know what, Simon, my father used to play that song on the guitar all the time when I was a little girl and I get verklempt every time I hear it. Parents aren't the only ones who wish they could better preserve and relive some memories. Sometimes their children do, too. You ask Dex and Tavish in a few decades. They'll be here. And probably be here long enough to worry about losing YOU before THEY'RE ready. Which will be never.


At least you wrote it and can re-live it every time you read it. And save it for the boys later. I have some journals from when the kids were little which I cherish but I wish I had chronicled way more than I did.
This was one of my many favorite posts of yours...

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