Children and their Parents
by Christian Martinez
This is a recollection of a 21-year-old. I don’t claim to know anything about parenthood since I’ve yet to become one. If it counts for anything, I realized at an early age that no honour is higher, no task more trying, than that which a parent faces in the birth of a child. Why did I start pondering about parenthood in the middle of vacation? Because of my stick. Yes, a stick.
Suzanne (friend) had randomly picked up a plant stem from the side of the road, of approximately a hand’s length, then proceeded to poke me with it. Her point, of course, was to illicit some sort of a response from me, but I disappointed her by showing none. With much skill, I took the stem from her hand with the intent of keeping it away from her, forever and ever.
Half an hour had passed when I realized that I still held the stem in my hand. I decided to keep it. Another hour had gone by when I wondered, “why the heck am I still hanging on to this twig?” At first I had thought I would just see if I can keep it until the end of the day. This was at about 10 in the morning, and we still had about 6 hours left of the day that was to be spent in an amusement park. Through the rollercoasters, rides and everything else that could be done at Disney World, I challenged myself to see if I can keep the stem safe. Soon, I grew attached to the stem. Parenthood crossed my mind.
I realized, this is quite similar to parenthood. Why do our parents love us? Issues of obligation aside, the conceptions of which vary greatly from a sociological perspective, could you think of a logical explanation as to why your specific parents give you love and care? If you think about it, there are plenty of people in the world who are capable of giving care. I thought that there really was no reason. The love that a parent gives is so boundless and unconditional that, indeed, it almost seems illogical. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’re capable of. It doesn’t matter if you can sing, dance or neither. Your parent loves you, even if you’re blind, mute, deaf, obese, with a disability, dyslexic, lesbian, gay, or twig! The love of a parent for a child is boundless and unconditional. As in this experience, there was no reason for me to grow attached to this twig, no reason why I should care and keep it safe; yet I did so regardless, just ’cause.
Here’s the harder part. The best of parents have as their highest purpose keeping the welfare of their children. Likewise, I intended to give the same thing to my child (the stem). I kept it close to me, giving it as much security as possible. Indeed I would have gone to war for my child! Yet in order for it to grow, I had to let it go. I decided, despite the attachment that I had begun to acquire for it, that as the time comes, I would release it from my care. Inasmuch as I wanted to keep the stem forever, I was only going to hang on to it for as long as it wanted to stay with me. I still guarded it fiercely, but at some point I knew it will leave me. I made peace with the idea. Sure enough, we parted, and I “lost” the twig. It made me quite sad, but I also felt resigned to my purpose as a “parent.” I was content.
I wish the stem all the best, and I thank it for the invaluable lesson it has taught me.
