Savoring the Fruit

Observing my kids over these past twentysomething years has found me many days scratching my head. These envelope-pushing-willful-behaving-socially-flying creatures that I could not in my wildest imagination conceive when I was a teen several decades ago, have left me positively bewildered on more occasions than I can count on my elbows-fingers-knees-and-toes.


And then, some days, everything about them seems golden.


I enjoyed that wonderfully-blissful refreshing shower of abundance this past week. Our second son, who is a plebe at the United States Naval Academy, tried out and passed the first round of competitive entry into a combat squad he hopes to be a part of, and called us as we were trying to fall asleep to tell us the good news.


The very next day, we got a call from our oldest son telling us the great news that he got accepted for the hoped-for part-time job teaching inner-city middle schoolers English and Math, while simultaneously studying through his senior year of college, working as a lab assistant, preparing for the GRE and applying to grad schools.


One day later, our daughter’s photo showed up in our small town newspaper, showing her digging a volleyball during one of their varsity games; our youngest son’s football plays were highlighted in the same newspaper in an article featuring eighth grade sports.


It was a good week. I beamed ear to ear with joy at their accomplishments and felt my heart take a literal leap.


More than twenty years ago, when I voluntarily derailed out of my corporate career on Wall Street to enter into the whole new world of at-home motherhood with back-to-back pregnancies and a wardrobe of maternity clothes (that became my permanent wardrobe for nearly a decade), I had no idea how the seeds we planted would sprout. Many, many times it seemed as though the seeds were thrown into frozen soil. The terrible two’s never lasted for just the second year of life, but stretched well into the “terrific” three’s and tug-of-war four’s. The “golden years” of five and six (or so I remember our pediatrician calling them that) never seemed particularly easy either. During middle school, I faced many days when I wasn’t quite sure I was going to make it. Head-scratching indeed.


And then somehow, with that mysterious unseen alchemy of sunshine, water and several spikes of high-packed vitamins, those seeds took root and one day, taking us all quite by surprise, sprouted. They grew and they grew. Trunks came up too. And became shockingly hardy. And then the trees bore fruit. Plump, juicy, savory fruit.


We happy parents are not bragging nor boasting. No. We’re simply delighted that our kids’ wings have taken hold and, sturdy and strong, have lifted them to heights not particularly on our horizons and directions never programmed into our mental GPS’s.


These past few weeks have left me facing dizzying news in the capital markets, disequilibrium with these historically unprecedented times and frustration with the irrational and illogical unfoldings on the financial and political scenes. If you are feeling the same way, try to take some time out to look for slivers of light. For moonbeams in parenting. Positive energy in your workspace. Words of encouragement from your colleagues.


I sense an overall edginess in our nation. An uneasiness with things on multiples fronts. My friends report difficulty sleeping. Worrying about their futures.


Looking for progress—large or small—is one of the joys of investing time and talent into other people. Of working with them to use their gifts and talents for the betterment of the world.


As you move forward these next few weeks, take a deep breath. Or two. And try to take time to savor the fruit. Juicy fruit is your sweet reward.


Blessings on your week,


Carolina