Lately, I have been reading a blog, by a young woman who wonders where, how or when the bar hopping, head turning hottie (she's very cute) became the stay at home, kickball with the kids playing mom she is now.
"low me to explain. From conception of their first child, parents discover that their children's health, happiness, and security take up permanent residence in their anxiety closet. I've been doing the parent gig some years now, and things haven't much changed, moved maybe, but merely the scope of the anxiety has changed.
My youngest, is a first response forest fire fighter. This year he is stationed in Idaho. Every summer I have the privilege of worrying about his time in the wild wood. He's selected this dangerous occupation, I tell myself. There room for a lot of great experience with mind boggling catastrophic, keep dad up nights opportunities for failure.
He phoned Saturday night. Dad, we're heading off to Alaska tomorrow. The lower half of the state is on fire, it's going to be fun.
I've been wondering, this being Memorial Day, how many soldier's parents of have had similar conversations with their children? How'd those turn out?
So my friend begs, "tell me it will get better". I can't and won't. All I can say is it's going to get different.
photo from University of Oregon