Joe Willie On The Shrimpbox: Worry

"Worry"

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become
accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful
moment when parents can become detached
spectators in the lives of their children and shrug,
"It's their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital
corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in
my son's head. I asked, "When do you stop worrying?"
The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident
stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a
classroom and heard how one of my children talked
incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed
for a career making license plates. As if to read my
mind, a teacher said, "Don't worry, they all go through
this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy
them." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for
the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door
to open. A friend said, "They're trying to find themselves.
Don't worry, in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll
be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick and tired of being
vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there
was a new wrinkle. There was nothing I could do about it.
My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing. I continued
to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their
frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.

My friends said that when my kids got married I could
stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe
that, but I was haunted by my mother's warm smile and
her occasional, "You look pale. Are you all right? Call
me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about
something?"

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of
worry? Is concern for one another handed down like
a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears
of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that
elevates us to the highest form of life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently,
saying to me, "Where were you? I've been calling for
three days, and no one answered I was worried."

I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed!