My younger brother and I have fourteen years difference between us. I was a teenager when he was just a toddler. I was living in an apartment on my own when he was in grade 3. Our life experiences were so vastly different that it was hard to relate to each other. Instead of being his playmate, I became his caregiver and his advisor. I had been where he was and could help him deal with the worries and difficulties that each stage of life presents.
My brother became a school teacher. He got married three years ago and now lives up north, a fifteen hour drive from where I live. I miss him. We try to stay connected but neither he nor I like to chat on the phone or correspond by email. On one of those rare calls recently, my brother was telling me how exhausted he was. He has a two-year old daughter and a newborn son. I remember those days very well: just a few hours of sleep at a time; catering to the seemingly endless needs of each child; dragging yourself to work; keeping up with the housework (kind of), and wondering what you did with your time BK (before kids).
I wanted to tell him something wise and encouraging but I couldn't. I am raising two teenagers, one is almost 18 years old who is off to university next year and the other is a 14 years old who has had attitude since she was 2! The 14 year old had just stormed out of the room yelling that she hated me when the phone rang. I was still steaming when my brother's voice said "Hi. How are you?" Unfortunately for my brother who was looking for a shoulder to cry on and a message of hope, all he got from me was "sometimes I really don't like being a parent".
I came up with a lame line about you don't know how hard it is to be a parent until you become one. It is a full time job, 24 hours a day, for at least 20 years (and after that it is only a part time job). My dad, who is 80 years old, still worries about his "children". He calls us, without fail, once a week to check in on us and make sure we are OK.
To my credit, I did tell my brother that as much as sometimes being a parent was difficult, there were other times that really made up for it. But I couldn't come up with any convincing examples mired as I was in the recent angry outburst with my youngest daughter.
This week, life provided me with striking examples of those special moments of parenthood when you are filled with pride and joy.
My eldest daughter Nadia is an accomplished musician. She plays the flute and the piccolo. She has been playing since she was 10. Nadia is the only teenager I know who prefers classical music over rap or pop songs. As she listens to classical music she might hum along and suddenly exclaim "Listen to the bassoon Maman, don't you love how it complements the sounds of the other wind instruments!" Nadia laboured behind a Deli counter at a local supermarket, often doing 10 hour shifts at minimum wage, two summers ago and then happily plunked down every penny she made to buy herself a new flute. The following year, it was a new piccolo that she bought.
Thursday evening was the final concert for her High School Senior Band. It was a bitter sweet evening because it was the last time the grade 12 kids would play together before they left for college or university. I sat in the audience and beamed as I could hear my daughter's piccolo solos rising up above the music. I could see in Nadia's face that she was at one with the music; she was in the "flow". I am happy that she has found something that gives meaning and purpose to her life at such an early age.
Just before they played the last piece of the evening, the conductor who has been their teacher for many years (from grade 8 to 12 for most), took the time to have each and every grade 12 student stand up in turn as she publicly stated what she admired most about them and celebrated their unique contribution to the orchestra. My daughter was the last grade 12 student to stand up. Her teacher recognized her natural talent and her dedication to her role as section leader as they tackled their most difficult pieces yet (Level 6) which won them a gold medal at the National Music Fest competition. My eyes were tearing up at this point and so were my daughter's. Nadia has always loved her teacher. She has been her mentor all these years. How wonderful to be acknowledged like that in front of her peers!
The teacher then announced that her fellow musicians had voted for Nadia as the most worthy recipient for this year's Award of Excellence in Music. Her name would be engraved on the trophy along with the names of past winners. Nadia has chosen to pursue a career in music. Music will always be part of her. This honor was a validation of her hopes and dreams. My heart was so full.
Those joyful moments in a parent's life eclipses countless others of the sleepless nights and the doors banging in anger kind. All of a sudden, in that moment, the "why" you became a parent becomes crystal clear. You have had the privilege of having a little human being as your ward for these many years. You have loved her and guided her as best you can. You have watched her struggle and flourish. Then comes a time when you need to let go. You step back and you notice how beautiful that human being has become, inside and out. You know then that you did something right...
