During the commute to work, I noticed a young girl and her mother walking to school along Burnside Road. At a place where the sidewalk had been torn up, replaced by a temporary walkway over a trench, the girl hesitated, seemingly unsure if she should proceed. She glanced up at her mother who smiled and nodded, and the girl walked confidently across the makeshift bridge.
It was a moment of trust between parent and child. There will be more bridges and more opportunities for that trust.
It doesn’t seem that long ago I put a little boy in a swing and gave him a push, reassuring him that he would be safe. He trusted me. I was his dad — as long as I was there, he knew he would be safe.
An eyeblink later, or so it seemed, that same boy — not so little any more and a pilot who had logged many hours in aircraft large and small — buckled me into the front seat of a sailplane, climbed in behind me and assured me I would be just fine. He said he could fly the plane using the controls in the rear seat — he wanted me to have the best view.
As the tow-rope tightened and the glider started to lift off, it swayed and jerked.
“The takeoff is the hardest part,” my son said as he brought the plane under control. “The dynamics are different when we’re being towed.”
When we reached our altitude and disconnected from the tow plane, the ride immediately became smoother.
That’s parenthood for you. One minute you’re towing them aloft and they’re fighting it all the way. Then you cut them loose and they’re flying on their own. It’s up to them if they stay aloft. If you’ve given them correct principles and sufficient practical experience, they might wobble and dip a few times, but generally, they’ll do just fine.
And if they don’t, there’s little you can do about it. Sometimes, despite everything you have taught them, they crash and burn, paying a high price for bad decisions.
But they must pay the price — well-meaning parents who continue to bail their kids out of trouble aren’t doing them any favours.
At a small-town newspaper, I once wrote of a 20-year-old who led police on a wild car chase, even trying to run one down at a roadblock.
His mother was furious because the newspaper had besmirched her family’s good name, besides adding to the poor lad’s problems. Wasn’t it enough, she wailed, that when he got out of the car (which he had driven into the ditch) he found himself surrounded by Mounties with guns drawn? And then I had to go and write it up in the paper for everyone to read.
As if the whole town didn’t already know.
I had wondered how a person that young could have gotten into so much trouble. The phone call explained it all — he had never had to accept responsibility for his actions. Mom was always there to cover for him.
Raising children is a risky business. Kids don’t come with guarantees, and besides that, they leak for the first few years. You can be assured of plenty of headaches and heartaches. Your sanity will be called into question, first by yourself for having kids, and later by your kids when they become teenagers.
But there are ways to reduce the risks and increase the rewards. Have regular mealtimes and bed times. Give your kids regular chores and ensure they are done. Always know where they are. Laugh a lot and cry occasionally.
Teach them right from wrong. We pussyfoot all over the map these days talking about values and mores, but what we’re talking about is right and wrong. Behaviour that is honest, kind and civil may be old-fashioned, but it will never be outdated.
Don’t wait. One minute you’re trying to help them balance on a bicycle, the next minute they’re trying to find their balance in the real world.
They must find their own paths, but they do it with the compass you give them.
