minalisms


    Posts Tagged ‘children’

    Godparenting

    Tuesday, May 20th, 2008

    I’ve received some fine compliments and awards and scholarships in my life. They’ve all reminded me that I’m a pretty fetching package, built with threads of brain and beams of beauty.

    But it wasn’t until this year, specifically these past two months, that I was awarded the most flattering compliment of all: the title of godparent — times two.

    The moniker was bestowed upon Ben and me sans religious overtones. Yet the weight of the duty remains. In fact, due to the seriousness of the responsibility, my immediate, latent reaction when presented with the question was to cry over the thought of tragedy striking, then zip through a billion questions and “what if” scenarios until both parents reconsidered the wisdom of designating a paranoid as a caretaker of their baby.

    The hidden reaction is not a joke. Instead, it’s indicative of my wholehearted determination to succeed in my new role. 

    But my actual reaction — also not a joke — was of delighted, gracious acceptance. 

    So, like in past instances where I expressed gratitude for an award or praise or prize, I must say thanks.

    Thank you, Rich and Marilyn, Dana and Shedrick, for the highest honor any parent can give to somebody. Your kids will always be cared for. 

    Happy Mother’s Day

    Sunday, May 11th, 2008

    I awoke today with the intention to sleep in longer. The inevitability of work the next day was my first thought, and so I was hoping that the tighter I squeezed my eyes shut, the faster the thought would dissipate.

    But knowing that it was Mother’s Day, and that Ben was going to leave in 10 minutes to accompany his mom to church, and that I’d feel lame and guilty for allowing laziness to trump my promise to tag along, and that my own mother would scold me over that decision, was the motivation I needed to spring into gear — and the distraction I needed to forget about work.

    So, I went to church. And for the first time, I was able to understand fully what was being preached.

    It wasn’t about God, or Jesus, or Mary, or the Apostles whose names I cannot remember. It was about being a mom, being a parent.

    “Parents are written all over their children,” the pastor said.

    He expounded on the statement: All parents have hopes that their children will be smarter than they are, stronger than they are, have better jobs than they do, and sustain healthy relationships. But, he said again, “Parents are written all over their children.” So unless parents themselves show strength and intelligence and perseverance and engage in healthy relationships, the children can neither reap nor reflect those traits. 

    It was at that point that I thought about my fortune — my independence, my humor, my wisdom and patience; my home, my fiancé, and, yes, even my job — and saw my parents’ faces rooted in all of those things. They taught me how to be the best of themselves. 

    I was wiping tears from my face when I noticed that there were many others doing the same. They all understood just the same.

    “Parents are written all over their children,” the pastor said, one more time.

    “Amen,” I said. 

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