Growing Up

When we're young, we rely on our parents. For everything. They protect us from the dangers of the world. They provide for our needs. They give us comfort, solace, and answers to our questions. They seem to know everything.

As we grow older, we realize they don't know as much as we thought.

Some of us tend to swing the pendulum a bit too far in the opposite direction. Sometimes we think our parents are idiots. Sometimes the doubt that comes in through a realization of their finite power makes us discredit their power completely. We begin to become independent in our thoughts and our actions.

But some of us enter into that independence a little more gently. Our parents become equals. Or we become our parents' equals. Maybe even a guide to them at times.

I have four kids. I'm not a kid anymore. My transition to adulthood happened a long time ago. Now I'm on the other side of the deal and I'm watching my kids go through this transition.

My oldest son has already become my equal. His life has become more complex. His studies, his relationships, his questions - I don't have all of the answers anymore. And he knows it. I'm honest with him about my lack of knowledge. And most of the time, when he asks me a question, I tell him I have no idea what the right answer is. But thankfully, he still talks to me anyway. And we talk together as friends. As equals.

We muse together. We hypothesize together. We simulate possible futures. We philosophize. But there's very little parent-child teaching going on anymore. He only recently left home, but even before he had left, I had already reached the limits of my parental knowledge and influence.

My second child, my oldest daughter, is reaching that same point. In our discussions lately, I'm finding fewer and fewer opportunities to teach her with solid answers. When she asks me questions or confides in me about her concerns or worries, I find myself answering her questions with more questions. With suppositions. With philosophical statements that lead to no concrete action or even a recommendation of what to do. I just don't have the answers or solutions to their problems anymore.

My youngest two children are not far behind. Their lives are not quite as complicated as the oldest two. But they're often flirting with issues that are too difficult for simple answers.

I see my children growing up and it's a wistful experience. I'm both happy and sad to see their progress. I have loved watching them go through various stages of life. And I sometimes miss some of those stages when they pass. But I'm happy for them to become the wonderful men and women that I see them becoming.

In many ways, even the simple things they struggled with when they were young were too complex for simple answers. But I gave them answers anyway. I don't know if that was for their benefit or mine. I wanted to have the answers. I wanted to make them feel safe. But maybe I was only holding on to my own ego. Maybe watching my kids grow up has forced me to look beyond my ego and to see life more fully, in all of its wild beauty and complexity.

Maybe I'm finally growing up.