HOW VERY TRUE

 Is there an imaginary cutoff period when
 Offspring become accountable
 For their own actions?
 Is there some wonderful moment when
 Parents can become detached spectators in
 The lives of their children and shrug,
 "It's their life", and feel nothing?

 When I was in my twenties,
 I stood in a hospital corridor
 Waiting for doctors to put a few stitches
 In my son's head and I asked,
 'When do you stop worrying?'
 The nurse said,
 'When they get out of the accident stage..'
 My Parents just smiled faintly
 And said nothing.

 When I was in my thirties,
 I sat on a little chair in a classroom
 And heard how one of my children
 Talked incessantly, disrupted the class,
 And was headed for a career
 Making license plates.
 As if to read my mind, a teacher said,
 'Don't worry, they all go through this stage
 And then you can sit back,
 Relax and enjoy them.'
 My Parents just smiled faintly
 And said nothing.

 When I was in my forties,
 I spent a lifetime waiting
 For the phone to ring,
 The cars to come home,
 The front door to open.
 A friend said,
 'They're trying to find themselves.
 'Don't worry!
 In a few years, they'll be adults.
 'They'll be off on their own
 They'll be out of your hair'
 My Parents just smiled faintly
 And said nothing.

 By the time I was 50,
 I was so tired of being vulnerable.
 I was still worrying over my children,
 But there was a new wrinkle..
 Even though they were on their own
 I continued to anguish over their failures,
 Be tormented by their frustrations and
 Absorbed in their disappointments..
 And there was nothing I could do about it.
 My Parents just smiled faintly
 And said nothing.

 My friends said that
 When my kids got married
 I could stop worrying
 And lead my own life.
 I wanted to believe that,
 But I was haunted by my parents' warm smiles
 And their occasional,
 'You look pale. Are you all right' ?
 'Call me the minute you get home'.
 Are you depressed about something?'

 My friends said that
 When I became a Grandparent
 That I would get to enjoy
 The happy little voices yelling
 Grandma! Grandpa!
 And now I find that I worry
 Just as much about the little ones
 As my big ones.
 How does anyone cope
 With all this Worry?

 Can it be that parents are sentenced
 To a lifetime of worry?
 Is concern for one another
 Handed down like a torch
 To blaze the trail of human frailties
 And the fears of the unknown?
 Is concern a curse or is it
 A virtue that elevates us
 To the highest form of earthly creation?

 Recently, one of my own children
 Became quite irritable, saying to me,
 'Where were you?
 I've been calling for 3 days,
 And no one answered
 I was worried.'
 I smiled a warm smile.
 The torch has been passed.