Saying goodbye

Couldn't resist to share this article which every parent can relate to:
https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/michael-gerson-saying-goodbye-to-my-child-the-youngster/2013/08/19/6337802e-08dd-11e3-8974-f97ab3b3c677_story.html

Eventually, the cosmologists assure us, our sun and all suns will consume their fuel, violently explode and then become cold and dark. Matter itself will evaporate into the void and the universe will become desolate for the rest of time.

This was the general drift of my thoughts as my wife and I dropped off my eldest son as a freshman at college. I put on my best face. But it is the worst thing that time has done to me so far. That moment at the dorm is implied at the kindergarten door, at the gates of summer camp, at every ritual of parting and independence. But it comes as surprising as a thief, taking what you value most.

The emotions of a parent, I can attest, are an odd mix: part pride, part resignation, part self-pity, even a bit of something that feels like grief. The experience is natural and common. And still planets are thrown off their axes.

Our ancestors actually thought this parting should take place earlier. Many societies once practiced “extrusion,” in which adolescents were sent away to live with friends or relatives right after puberty. This was supposed to minimize the nasty conflicts that come from housing teenagers and their parents in close proximity. Some non-human primates have a similar practice, forcibly expelling adolescents from the family group.

Fat lot did our ancestors know. Eighteen years is not enough. A crib is bought. Christmas trees get picked out. There is the park and lullabies and a little help with homework. The days pass uncounted, until they end. The adjustment is traumatic. My son is on the quiet side — observant, thoughtful, a practitioner of companionable silence. I’m learning how empty the quiet can be.

I know this is hard on him as well. He will be homesick, as I was (intensely) as a freshman. An education expert once told me that among the greatest fears of college students is they won’t have a room at home to return to. They want to keep a beachhead in their former life.

But with due respect to my son’s feelings, I have the worse of it. I know something he doesn’t — not quite a secret, but incomprehensible to the young. He is experiencing the adjustments that come with beginnings. His life is starting for real. I have begun the long letting go. Put another way: He has a wonderful future in which my part naturally diminishes. I have no possible future that is better without him close.

There is no use brooding about it. I’m sure my father realized it at a similar moment. And I certainly didn’t notice or empathize. At first, he was a giant who held my hand and filled my sky. Then a middle-aged man who paid my bills. Now, decades after his passing, a much-loved shadow. But I can remember the last time I hugged him in the front hallway of his home, where I always had a room. It is a memory of warmth. I can only hope to leave my son the same.

Parenthood offers many lessons in patience and sacrifice. But ultimately, it is a lesson in humility. The very best thing about your life is a short stage in someone else’s story. And it is enough.

The end of childhood, of course, can be the start of adult relationships between parents and children that are rewarding in their own way. I’m anxious to befriend my grown sons. But that hasn’t stopped the random, useless tears. I was cautioned by a high-powered Washington foreign policy expert that he had been emotionally debilitated for weeks after dropping off his daughter at college for the first time. So I feel entitled to a period of brooding.

The cosmologists, even with all their depressing talk about the eventual heat death of the cosmos, offer some comfort. They point out that we live in the briefest window — a fraction of a fraction of the unimaginable vastness of deep time — in which it is physically possible for life to exist. So we inhabit (or are chosen to inhabit) an astounding, privileged instant in the life span of the universe.

Well, 18 years is a window that closed too quickly. But, my son, those days have been the greatest wonder and privilege of my life. And there will always be a room for you.

- Michael Gerson

Bridging the culture gap

As I much as I make an effort to integrate myself with my american friends and society every single day, I still feel that there is much more to do to assimilate with this awesome open and a fair society. The need to assimilate quadrupled ever since I had a daughter 4 years ago. Why? Simply because she is a proud US citizen and I would like to let her think about her parents the same way.

Where do we start this assimilation process? It begins with baby steps.

COMMUNICATION:
It took me a great deal to improve on my communication as that is where it all begins. Never be afraid of changing the way you converse, listen to talk shows on radio and TV as this helped me a ton. Ability to think, respond and strike a conversation is what makes you a good social person.

UP BRINGING:
As much as we rave about our way (Indian or Chinese or any nativity) of upbringing, there is definitely an element of truth and benefit to the American style of upbringing especially when it comes to setting expectation with your kid, rewarding them for good behaviors and letting them know about the consequences of bad behavior. I am not suggesting that every kid in USA is raised the same way but USA certainly did teach me more about these proven techniques to raise a kid. It has helped me dealing with terrible 2's, containing tantrums and also letting my kid know that being humble and kind is the only way to move forward in life.

REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS:
This is one of the most important step in my opinion. As a parent, it is inevitable to assume that your kid is the smartest, brightest and the best. In real world, it doesn't work that way. You would always strive to give them the best in everything you can afford but at the same time, you may also refine your expectations as they grow. Hoping that they would never date anyone or never go to prom parties or never get involved in curious 'teen' activities is like living in paradise. Instead, you always let your kid know they should not disappoint you under any circumstances and that you are always there when they are in trouble. I mean any kind of trouble. This would give them the confidence that they have our backs if they go wrong. Instead of asking them what they did good today, ask them what they failed in. And, give them a chance to fail as failures are a stepping stone for success. Today, we have a great problem of rewarding kids even if they came last in a sprint race. This is not the way it should work.

FREEDOM:
We are fortunate to live in this free nation. That should also mean that we give that sense of freedom to our kids who would then have a mindset to explore. Of course, you would set boundaries but letting them pursue their goals or dreams is what makes them successful. They always know that you are there to support them during hard times. We are fortunate to have that luxury to support which never existed when we grew up. There was no room for maneuver back then.

I am hoping that these simple but powerful tools will help each parent to enjoy the benefits of raising kids in USA. There is no place better than this when it comes to pursuing dreams!