From a distance I smell effects of a freshly cut lawn, within the muffled sound of a zero-turn mower. Shadows reflect off the sheets I just put on the line, reminding me of days when my mom hangout the laundry. Now I’m the parent and grandparent, watching my own kids stumbling through the world of parenting much like I did. I thank my lucky stars that for the most part I been allowed to retire. With my kids knowing I here for them, without the added stress of having to bail them out of every jam.
My hope is you’re granted the comfort. That you have the confidence that your own children grow up the be good parents. While I was parenting I suffered, and I suffered hard. Floating through one mental crisis to another doing what I had to do to hold on. Now most of my days are spent paying the price for all that stress and bad choices just to survive. You may wonder, “Damn, was it all worth it?” The answer obviously, yes. “Adulting” as it’s now called, is no easy road. But sitting here in my shitty state of well-being is something I can live with knowing “my four and no more” are content and successful. Meaning that despite my flaws, I must have done a decent job.