Mother’s Day was about three weeks ago, and Father’s Day is about three weeks to come. So we’re in that late spring season of the year when our secular American culture memorializes parenthood. I think that’s a good thing; in fact, the older I get, the better an idea it seems to become. I’m now in my 60s, I don’t have kids, and I’m pretty darn sure that I never will. (I realize that it might still be physically possible, but I believe that it’s morally wrong for an old man to want his wife or girlfriend to have a child for him, given the highly increased chances of genetic defects, not to mention that an old man is less likely as time passes to be able to put up with the rigors of giving a child the parental care that such child needs and deserves.) But as I experience what it’s like to be an aging working adult, I better appreciate what my parents went through, and all the sacrifices that they made to give my brother and me a good childhood and a shot at a good life.
When you are young, of course you see the world thru young eyes. So you have no idea of what the world looks like thru older eyes. But now that I have older eyes, I can better see what they went thru. They were devoted parents, and hardly ever took time off for themselves (I could probably count on my fingers the total number of times when they left us with an uncle or an aunt for a night to themselves). Other than my father’s work hours, our school hours, and an occasional afternoon or evening when my mother was out taking care of her mother, they constantly lived in “kidland”. Well once we were over 10 and spent increasing amounts of time away with our friends on our bikes or just hanging out doing the usual teenage stuff, they didn’t have us underfoot all the time. But only at the price of their constantly worrying about » continue reading …
