Tonight, a mother cries...

Tonight a mother cries. She is the same mother who, on Friday night, continued to have hope that her son would beat his leukemia as he had his cancer. The cancer treatment put the cancer into remission, but caused the leukemia. He would have graduated from high school in June. Tomorrow he will be buried. My heart is broken for this woman I have never met.

I, too, have a son who is a high school senior. Tonight his fresh mouth and snarly attitude made me feel awful. So often, lately, I question why he hates me when all I want is for him to grow up to be a fine man. And I thought of the woman who will never see her son grow into the man he would have become. I cannot fathom her grief, her despair, her limitless faith.

As mothers, we all too often point fingers at each other: she lets her kids drink soda, she lets her kids play violent video games, she doesn't seem to care what grades her children get, she stays at home, she leaves her kids in day care. All of the criticism we level at each other means nothing tonight. A mother is crying because the best person she ever knew, the person she loved best, has died. We feel a pain, but even as we do, we know that it is nothing like hers.

Tonight, a mother cries. And every mother cries with her.

Family Rules

For years I had a list of "family rules" tacked up on the wall in the upstairs hallway. I had printed it out on the computer and hoped that we could make them instinctive. I really wanted them to just be a reminder of the rules of behavior we talked about as a family. There were major headings like "Respect for Our World," and "Respect for Our Family," and "Respect for Others." A rule under the heading "Respect for Our World," was "Leave a Place Better Than You Found It." This was because I just couldn't stand it when the boys would not put something away because "they hadn't taken it out." My son once picked up litter by a creek in our favorite park. He was disgusted that someone would defile such a beautiful spot. As he went over to the trash receptacle, he said to me matter-of-factly, "I'm leaving a place better than I found it."

I found that some rules needed to be added as we went along. When my oldest boy was eight he went on a playdate where there were older siblings. He came home with a bruise on his chest from someone giving him what is called a "purple nurple." I was absolutely horrified. Quickly I added "Respect for your own body" to our list of rules.

When the boys became teenagers I needed an updated list of rules. They were really the same rules, but more explicitly phrased. "Respect for your own body," is now a heading over "No drugs," "No alcohol." I was squeamish about posting rules which pertained to sex, so I worded them in a way that the boys know exactly what I mean (because we've talked about it so much). So under "Respect for Others" as well as "Respect for Yourselves" is "Don't do anything that will bring you consequences and responsibilities."

In many ways, the boys think I am silly. They roll their eyes and sometimes even laugh. But they know what I stand for and they know what is expected of them as members of this family. And so, as my four-year old daughter learns to read, I will make a new "starter list" for her. Ideally, the boys will even help me with it. It shouldn't be hard since the list is just a written reminder of all of the things we stand for as a family.

Growth

My 15 yr. old son quit smoking. I know what some are thinking after reading this: he should never have started in the first place. This is true, and I make no excuses for him. I don't smoke and I had drummed into him the dangers of smoking since he and his brother were little. I would point to celebrities and family members whose health declined from the ravages of smoking. Despite all my best efforts, he had his first cigarette when he was thirteen. I was devastated when I found out, but I was also frustrated at his lack of sense and embarrassed at what I perceived as my own failure as a parent.

My son had a few frustrations of his own. He hated wasting his allowance on cigarettes, and he hated the time it wasted when he had to leave the house to have a smoke. He wanted to quit, but he knew how bad he felt "between cigarettes" and was a bit frightened to experience that torture magnified. He mentioned that he might try to quit after school let out for the summer. I crossed my fingers, but didn't say anything more than "You can do it." Two days after summer vacation began, he came to me and said that he hadn't had a cigarette in two days. I hadn't realized that his desire to quit had hardened into a resolve.

It hasn't been easy for him. Like most smokers, he had a routine which he has had to forgo. There have been days that have truly been awful - he says that the cravings can come out of nowhere. When we went on vacation, he felt a terrible pressure and gave in to "just one cigarette." Luckily it made him feel, in his words, "stupid and not worth it," so he has gone another two weeks without another one. I am really very proud of him.

I have learned a few things myself. I feel that I cannot take credit for his strength and determination, so I shouldn't feel guilty about his smoking either. Both starting and quitting were entirely up to him. Also, I have learned that the addiction to nicotine cannot be taken lightly. As a never-smoker, I did not realize how hard it is to quit. Realizing that, I feel even prouder of my son for quitting on his own.