This is one I just received from…my mom (who else?)

Thanks Mom. I love you. Now, where were you last night? I was worried!

A MOM WORRIES
 
Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a 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. I asked, “When do  you stop worrying?” The nurse said, “When they get out of the accident  stage.” My mother 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 mother 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, you can stop worrying. They’ll be adults.” My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle. There was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

I continued to anguish over their disappointments, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their problems. 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 mother’s warm smile and her occasional, “You look pale. Are you all right? Call me the minute you get home. Are you depressed about something?”

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 life?

One of my children became quite irritable recently, 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.

Here are some funny things to ponder (thanks Steph):

• Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They’re going to see you naked anyway.
• Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?
• If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?
• Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane?
• If the professor on Gilligan’s Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can’t he fix a hole in a boat?
• Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They’re both dogs!
• If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn’t he just buy dinner?
• Why is “bra” singular and “panties” plural?
• If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?
• If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?
• Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?
   Why did you just try singing the two songs above?
• Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog’s face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him for a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?