Dear Mom and Dad,

Growing up I asked you all the time about parenting. Not all the “How does going to bed at 7 P.M. is going to help my development as a future adult,” but “why,”?

You always seemed to have the answers. The questions you didn’t have the answer to, you just told me that I would understand when I got older.

Initially I thought it was a blow off answer. But now I know you were right.

For all the mistakes I made, you were there to pick me up.

For all the mistakes you made, you tried the best you could under trying circumstances

For all the hard times we had financially, you gave value to the possessions we did have.

For every meaningless toy we wanted but couldn’t and shouldn’t have gotten, you gave us an adventures money could never buy. How many stories could we fill about adventures on the way to adventures, such as walking down a parkway in Chicago to get White Castle or me wasting a half of a roll of film to get a picture of a rooster at Knotts Berry Farm.

I just didn’t get it.

For the hand me down that filled our closets, there were stories behind each of them.

 

You gave us hope through the darkness of a New York blackout, and love through the darkest moments in our family. When people attempted to divide, we came closer as a family.

You asked me this weekend if anything was wrong.

This weekend I was quiet, just swallowing every little moment, savoring the opportunities, every hug, kiss and second with my kids, like you used to do to me.

Love is a fleeting gift, a moment that is here and gone. Moments, like Shelby’s graduation won’t be measured in the seconds of confusion or anger over something trivial but will be measured in the tears that fell from my eyes as Shelby’s name was called.

There never has been a book on parenting your kids the way you have and thus it’s the reason I’ve realized this afternoon I had taken a masters course in parenting all during my life.