I'll admit it. I'm a sap. The old joke was that
some cry at phone company commercials.
Sadly most folks nowadays assume "reach
out and touch someone" is somehow related
to the "me too" movement. Obviously while
old enough to know better, I still get moved
by certain ads. Like those now promoting
AWS - Amazon Web Services. There within
young kids ask their elders a series of "how
do you" questions. Which remind me of my
tots at that age. In particular of one little boy
who always wanted answers. Hence... when
I see said spots I can't help but shed a tear.
For most parents those early years remain with us
long after our kids have grown up. In a month my
eldest turns forty. A fact that we both find quite
shocking. Whenever "E" shows up in my dreams
she's somewhere around six or seven. Never an
adult. Which means that not only is my parental
sub conscience stuck in a time warp. But those
years were also the most memorable. The same
applies to all of my children. Far deep within me
lurks those happy parental times. All of which
sadly I must admit were taken for granted. In part
because I thought they would never end. Only to
come to a screeching halt once we hit their teens.
Think about it. We enter this life depending on
others. Relying on them to feed us and change
our diapers. And most of us end our existence
in exactly the same manner. Adolescence being
a magical phase of discovery and growth for
both parent and child. A time when all involved
build a relationship as they get acquainted. It's
a fragile crescendo of love and trust. And then
suddenly, the natural inclination to control your
own destiny takes over. And our children pull
away from or at times throw away all parental
ties. Leaving those who love them behind with
only memories. Waiting for the phone to ring.
Fortunately many families find a way to stay
in touch. Yet for reasons of their own some
opt to break with their parents. The ultimate
act of rebellion, they simply move on with no
regrets. However one can't help but wonder if
they don't also yearn for times past. Do they
replay the same random yet precious blasts
from the past like their parents do? Only time
will tell. However those spurned still hope that
someday, somehow our prodigal offspring will
return to where they belong. Back to our open
arms and hearts ready to forgive and forget.
And that's the stuff that dreams are made of...
