Seeing Me Through My Child's Eyes...

“And when he died, I suddenly realized I wasn’t crying for him at all, but for the things he did. I cried because he would never do them again, he would never carve another piece of wood or help us raise doves and pigeons in the backyard or play the violin the way he did, or tell us jokes the way he did. He was part of us and when he died, all the actions stopped dead and there was no one to do them the way he did. He was individual. He was an important man. I’ve never gotten over his death. Often I think what wonderful carvings never came to birth because he died. How many jokes are missing from the world, and how many homing pigeons untouched by his hands? He shaped the world. He did things to the world. The world was bankrupted of ten million fine actions the night he passed on.” ~Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451~

Occasionally, my children and I have such sublime moments of clarity in how we see each other that it's awe-inspiring. I had such a night tonight.

So, most that know me and my family know that I have a short person in each level in the hierarchy of pre-collegiate educational institutions. I have a teenager in his last semester of high school, a 'tween (soon to be a teen) in her first year of middle school and the shortest person who is in elementary school. They are my tribe, they are whom I do everything for. I give my life to making sure they are taken care of, protected and to feel secure in the knowledge that they are the centers of my world.

The shortest person and I are still the presidents and founders of each other's mutual admiration society. We are the loves of each other's lives, the alpha and the omega, each other's biggest fans. The 'tween and I are at the cusp of occasionally despising one another for brief moments of time with much eye rolling and exasperation on both parts. It goes along with the territory. All that trying boundaries and everything during hormonally charged explosions much like solar flares. The teenager and I...well, let's just say the teenager and I have had more conflict than the Middle East in approximately the past 8 years of his evolution into a human being from puberty to now. He and I tend to be the most alike...thus the constant conflict. He drives me crazy at times!

You see, my mother has this theory...that for a brief number of years from right around the start of puberty until about 19, all persons who are transforming from child to adult, are not human. It's such an apt description of us in adolescence. Anyone that has survived puberty, the teenage years and "early adult-hood" with their children knows what I'm talking about. It's a time when you begin to truly understand why some animals eat their young, and others abandon their young to fend for themselves.

At any rate, having the teenager and tween has made me appreciate having the buffer of the shortest person to remind me that once upon a time, these two "halflings" were cute and loveable. Not that I don't adore all my short people. I really do. Sometimes I just don't like the evolving ones very much.

But, the teenager has become much more human in the past year. So much so that he has made me tear up occasionally when he makes a very astute and heart-warming revelation known to me. It makes me realize that somewhere along the lines of this chaotic "parental experiment" I ventured into almost two decades ago, I might have actually done something right.

Our conversation this evening started with us catching up on his life, his new love, and a myriad of everyday things. We talked about a book I was reading, and how I was going to give it to him to read after I was done with it because he would love it because it was like the science fiction he loved that wasn't so fictitious anymore. We talked about recent changes in government and my recent decision to leave my employer so I could support my family better. I told him how I was a bit nervous about it, but that everyone seemed to have faith I would do a great job-working for me. He told me not to worry about it, because I am such an amazing therapist that I would have no problem succeeding. I asked him how he was so sure about this.

He told me he read a quote by Ray Bradbury the other day that was perfect for my situation.

I stood there, in his doorway, listening to him explain the quote as he remembered it. He said that when he read the quote, he immediately thought of me. 

He said, that when people die it's not the person you miss but what they do, and that's a big part of who they are...because it's the things that people do that they love that we remember when they're gone. He said everything I do, I work hard to do my best and people remember that. I make an impression. I am passionate about my work with almost a religious zeal. He said I was important. 

The teenager went onto say that when he wakes up and his first thought isn't about his work, because...let's face it, there isn't a whole lot to be excited about working in an entry level food service job. The teenager has been taking on more responsibility. He got his first job this past summer. He now understands a few things about the value of an honest wage for honest work, the difficulties adults sometimes have in not being appreciated for what it is we really do and why I strive so hard to do what I do to become a success in my own right. He knows that my work isn't just about making money for me. He knows that my work is my passion, something I believe in, am really great at and am very enthusiastic about.

He sees me day in and day out, waking up and KNOWING that my purpose that day is to do the greatest work I possibly can, and that every single person I touch will remember me because I put my whole heart, my whole being INTO my work. I made a noise of agreement and said people tend to tell me that their greatest complaint is that they can't find someone else who does quite what I do the way I do it.

The teenager said that the reason that my clients will never find another person who can do what I do because I have passion beyond the necessary for my work. He said that my clients, partners, employers, co-workers, friends and family can truly see that I really love what I do. And that's what makes me remarkable above and beyond any skill or knowledge that I have. He said that passion is what he wants to be able to find in his own life's work...whatever that is. Passion like I have for my career.

The teenager actually said he admired me. He also said that not enough people appreciate my dedication, my ability to see connections in how I treat injuries, pain and biomechanical issues. He knows I go above and beyond what anyone would expect in my treatment of my clients. THAT is what he said makes me great. He also said he didn't think I valued myself enough. No one valued me enough for the person I was, for the therapist I was, or for the woman I was.

I stood there, gripping my arms close to my chest, and not saying a thing. I was humbled beyond speech.

When a parent begins to feel that their child is this alien life form, sometimes it's hard to accept that they have become human again...with more compassion and respect than they began with. When your child becomes alien, at times you feel that you will never get the child you so loved back...

I looked into the eyes of this man, this once boy-child who loved me so much at one point (when he was 5) he wanted to grow up to marry me. I looked into his warm eyes and knew that my first love was still there. My little boy who loved his Momma so very, very much. But he saw me through the eyes of a man I had raised. 

It was there in that very second I realized that we have survived his growing up. He has made me a very proud mother. Not because he thinks so highly of me. But because he has evolved to think beyond himself, that he sees his own strengths and failings. And he can empathize with me, see the work that I do, what others do and recognize the value of sacrifice. That he sees the value in other human beings. Their true value. Their spirit. Their heart. Their dedication. Their passion. And that he wants it for himself. 

That he understands me.

I sit here crying in my room, not lamenting the loss of my little boy, but joyful that the world will get to know this remarkable young man. This man that I had a part in helping to become. Great. Loving. Compassionate. Intelligent. Creative. A real human being. 

I hope that we all might look at ourselves through our children's eyes. So that we may understand great love. They see us for who we are. They are the ones who really show us that we shape the world. That everyone around us is touched by our hands, and our hearts. They become who we show them we are, what we value. And sometimes, we don't realize who we are until we can see how those that we fight so hard for, work tirelessly for, and love with no condition placed on them, show us they see all that. And appreciate it.

We are important. We are valued. We cannot give up our passions. We are shaping the world. Decision by decision. Sacrifice by sacrifice. Our children become who they are by seeing us through their eyes. For good or bad. Better or worse. We are part of...everything. The world would never be what it is without us.

Makes one question, what part are you giving to the world?