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Fw: worried - quite good

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> I think we can all relate to this:

>

> 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? "

>

> A 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 listened 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. In a few years, you can stop

> worrying. They'll be adults. "

>

> 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.

>

> But 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 wan 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 wan smile.

>

> The torch has been passed.

>

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> I think we can all relate to this:

>

> 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? "

>

> A 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 listened 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. In a few years, you can stop

> worrying. They'll be adults. "

>

> 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.

>

> But 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 wan 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 wan smile.

>

> The torch has been passed.

>

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