FREE NEWSLETTER
BILLY JOEL WROTE a song that declares, “I love you just the way you are.” But as parents, sometimes it isn’t easy to say those words about our children.
We’re supposed to train them to succeed in life. We all probably think we’re excellent trainers, so—when our children don’t get it—it must be their fault. We did our part, so why don’t they learn?
For parents of special needs children, things are different, but also similar. We also have to train our children for life. But they don’t learn or perform as “typical” children do. But good parents persevere, training their children in different ways or with more intensity. We all need to get to the finish line, so we can say, “I did my part.”
But what happens if we never get to the finish line? What happens if the usual events that parents enjoy—graduations, marriages, grandchildren—never happen? That’s what I was facing.
Luckily, in recent years, I’ve been able to look at my life differently. I’ve accepted my son for who he is, not for what he could be. I was afraid I’d feel I was giving up, but the opposite happened. I started to look at him as complete—that he couldn’t be anything more than what he is.
I believe we all want to be better. Take our finances. We read books, try to save more, buy things when they’re on sale and take out loans when it makes sense. But when do we stop trying to make our finances better, and instead accept them for what they are? To me, the goal of accumulating money and having wealth is to live a comfortable life. We do it so that, at some point, we can stop struggling.
Thinking we can always improve our finances—or always improve our children—can be a lifelong mission. But should it be? Wouldn’t we be better off looking at our children as complete or our financial plan as all set?
I no longer feel I have to fix my son. I no longer feel I need to ensure he can do everything, because he can’t. Whatever he can’t do, I’ll do it instead. The uncertainty for me: Will he be able to figure things out when I’m not around? I’m not sure. But at least I get to enjoy him while I’m still here.
We can all fuss with our lives, or we can just enjoy things as they are. Enjoyment is so much better.
How we think is how we feel and act. Simply taking a different perspective on things can make a huge difference!
You’ve perfectly described where I’m trying to be with my special needs son. I was so moved by this article that I read it to my wife. Something I rarely do. Thanks for writing this.
This is great. I’ve done way too much fretting about my younger daughter and wishing she’d get her act together as a young adult—she’ll be 30 in March—and not enough time enjoying the many great things about who she is now. Are there things to worry about? Sure. But most of them are out of my control, anyway, so I should reframe how I think about this. Thank you.
I’ve had some of the same quandaries with my younger daughter too. But she’s a strong, vibrant, accepting, magnetic person who singlehandedly wants to save the world. We’ve accepted that the challenge now is keeping up, which we’re learning to do with joy.
I agree. In the past I’ve lost too much sleep fretting over things I couldn’t control anyway. I haven’t totally gotten past this bad trait, but I’ve been working on it for a while and I am doing better these days. You’re right; enjoyment is better.
I don’t offer any of my children – all adults now – advice. Unless they ask me to do so.
I figure that at best I MIGHT be able to stop them from making the same mistakes I did.
Even so, they’re probably going to make their own mistakes.
The strange part is that their adult friends come to me for advice. But my adult children don’t take advice from me.
David, I think that you’ve just explained the secret of life.