There's No Avoiding It, I Guess
There's No Avoiding It, I Guess 1/27/2011
Long ago, in college, before I had kids, we devoted many hours to lying around dreaming, talking about the future (when I should have been practicing music). My fiance played a couple of record albums to me. He was astounded to have found out that I knew nothing but hymns and Big Band music, and nothing contemporary or popular. One of these artists was Harry Chapin. And one of Chapin's most powerful songs was written for his young son -
“Cat's in the Cradle” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zH46SmVv8SU
It's about the relationship between a boy and his father. There are several scenes: son's birth, toddlerhood, ten years old, college, and finally the father's retirement years. First you see that during all of his son's growing years, the father was too busy to spend time with him. There's a repeating line, “I don't know when, but we'll get together then son. You know we'll have a good time then.” During these important years, the son also said, “as he grew He'd say, "I'm gonna be like you dad. You know I'm gonna be like you." By the time the son went to college, his life was getting exciting and busy also. And when the father asked to be with him for awhile, the son was too busy, and also asked for the car keys!! LOL The last scenario was after the father had retired and called up his son asking for a visit. The answer that came back - well, frankly, it was exactly as this man deserved, I think - part of that “reap what you sow” philosophy. The son was too busy, couldn't find the time. And Harry Chapin, that expert storyteller, really twists the knife with “And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me He'd grown up just like me. My boy was just like me.”
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Later, when I had my first baby, I discovered these verses:
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
I find now, looking it up on the internet, that I only had the last stanza after all. But that's OK, I wouldn't have had time to memorize the rest of it anyway - not with Petey as a baby! Oy !
The poem is called “Babies Don't Keep” by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
http://organicallyinclined.org/2010/07/26/babies-dont-keepthe-poem-has-an-author/
I took these two messages to heart, as a life philosophy. (To be glaringly honest, I detest housework anyway, and having such a higher calling as an excuse to avoid it worked just fine for me!)
Even after the kids were older, and all their way through, I lived and taught them one important principle - “People before things.” So many people get caught up with the “tyranny of the urgent” - remember that phrase? - and they have only time for “urgent” and no time for IMPORTANT.
~ ~ ~ ~
The Chapin song was full of regret, but that Hamilton poem wasn't without pangs either. The poem warns that “babies don't keep”, and by extension, you're to realize that children don't keep as they grow up, either. They will reach the time when they will leave you for their own lives - and you will be alone, without them. (Actually, that's supposed to be your controlling purpose while raising them - equipping them to be independent, able to stand on their own as good citizens and good parents of their own kids. It's the most painful part of parenting - knowing that you are supposed to be working yourself OUT of a job. )
So all those years, rocking the babies, comforting them at night, all the playdates arranged and birthday parties... All the sacrifices I made to stay close to them after the divorce, and how hard I worked then to try to provide what they “would have had IF".... All through the fun ride of reliving marching band through Petey, and the juggling years with stage shows to create, and the blast that balloon twisting brought into James's life and his little rise to fame... All through that, I gathered up the memories, and BURNED them into my heart. I knew it would all end - and all too quickly.
I certainly don't have a lifetime of regrets, such as the too-busy, selfish father in “Cat's in the Cradle”. I'm absolutely positive I have more great memories than most parents nowadays. It was hardly easy or convenient always putting the kids first, and building those memories WITH them second.
And it's over now. OVER. Glaringly, painfully over. I've hit that “Empty Nest” stage.
I have only my memories, half a childhood of disorganized photographs, and the other half only digital. That, and a shoebox full of 8mm tapes that I can't even see because the videocamera is broken. Haha, and a rolling trunk full of juggling equipment, and a closet full of balloons. And scratches, dents, and missing pieces on the last two junky minivans from teaching them to drive and “trusting” them with the van on their (mis)adventures with groups of friends. (Minivans make decent campers for teens when there's nothing else around.)
So I have all those memories. At least I do have all that. But - this stage, now that it's all over - is still incredibly PAINFUL.
There's No Avoiding It, I Guess
And I still can't juggle.
<{;o)§---