It’s graduation season, and I’m whisked back to when Seth, the youngest of my trio of sons, graduated from college. Mixed in with the pride of his accomplishments came the reality that I’d been demoted, again. The title I’d coveted for so many years – through measles and bowl haircuts, Little League and Halloween carnivals — would permanently change.
For the third time in my mommyhood career, I’d been reclassified from Mom the Manager to Claire the Consultant. I’d been through this before. First with Shawn, and then four years later with Jake. I knew the routine. Being familiar with the drill, though, didn’t make accepting the bittersweet reassignment any easier.
I know my three sons still need me, but not in the ways I’d grown accustomed to. Kids always need their mother (and father), but now I’m on a “need-to-know” basis. And there’s a lot I don’t need to know.
As each of my adult children tackles life’s adventures, I now wait in the background wondering if I’ve done all I could to prepare them. But instead of seeing grown men, my heart pictures a five-year-old boy curled on our couch watching Homeward Bound for the umpteenth time and crying inconsolably as Shadow, a golden retriever, falls into an abandoned railyard shaft. Wasn’t it just last week one of them asked asked why chocolate chips are brown?
No parent can completely prepare their child for every eventuality – heartbreak, undercooked steak, mean bosses, flu-like symptoms, cold lattes, broken appliances, late paychecks, flat tires. But still we try. I look back on these years and hope my nurturing, guidance and love has equipped these fellas to meet future challenges.
Their worlds continue to change and so does mine. And it’s during transitions like this that we grown-ups try to make sense of things. We corral our own goals. Check off items from our Things to Do Before I’m 30 (40, 50, 60, 70) list. Jot down some new ones. My husband Nick and I bought a copy of 1000 Places To See Before You Die. Mostly, we’ve flipped through the destinations, but it won’t be long until we actually have time to visit some.
I’m excited to start whittling down my travel to do’s, but my blissful tourist thoughts are repeatedly interrupted by another list formulating in my mind: 1000 Things I Hope I Taught My Sons Before Graduation. This roster is a mishmash of sticky notes, random thoughts and verbal cautions that trail behind as my sons walk out the door. Important things like don’t wash your orange baseball shirt with your underwear; check the date on the milk carton before you make a bowl of cereal; don’t get into a car with an unsafe driver.
I’m sure there are more than a thousand things I’ve taught — either by example or lesson — to my sons, Shawn, Jake and Seth. But limited to about 800 words, I’ll share (in no particular order) the top few I hope sunk in. When you can spare a moment, feel free to add the other 990.
1) Trust your instincts. They will lead you on the right path.
2) Common courtesy counts. Please, Thank You, I’m Sorry, Pardon Me are not on the endangered word list, so use them freely. Open doors for women and your elders. Pull the chair out for your lady. Turn off your cell phone in public.
3) Stay grounded. You’ll always have a home and two people who never tire of hearing about your victories, defeats, goals and challenges.
4) You won’t know unless you try. (I borrowed this one from my mother, Florence — to which she’d add – try, try and try again.)
5) Choose quality time over quantity stuff.
6) Little things count. Let that car merge in front of you. Pick up someone else’s trash. Put the seat down. Recycle. Smile.
7) You love your family, but you choose your friends, so choose carefully.
8) Never compromise your health. It’s your most valuable asset.
9) Pray. Pray some more.
10) Call your mother.
Mostly, I hope my sons know how much their dad and I love, trust and admire them. Right before our eyes, in what feels like mere moments, they each transformed from a helpless infant to an inquisitive toddler to a typical teen. Now as men they are confident, responsible, capable adults. And if I do say so myself, their folks did quite a terrific job.