Lost and found

I lost both of my parents a long time ago. Literally lost my mother to a dreaded disease that robbed her of her beautiful voice when I was 20 and then robbed her of her life when I was 22. I lost my dad early too. Maybe as I grew up some. Definitely when we stopped talking those last many years. The lost often lose count.

I’ve been thinking a lot about loss this week. There’s no value in ranking the lost opportunities, moments, and memories that resulted from the loss of my parents but I’m more and more convinced that losing the chance to see them as flawed adults and parents through the eyes and heart of another flawed adult and parent is right up near the top. We would have shared so much.

That wide-eyed amazement and acceptance from young kids to young parents is beautiful and necessary. My heart breaks for any parent-child relationship in the first decade that doesn’t feature this. I, like I’m sure so many others, felt initially saddened or insecure about my kids’ maturity coming with a helping of new skepticism about how awesome and all-knowing Dad was. Just as we were exiting the simple and physical challenges of basic safety, hygiene, friendship, and sleepovers I realized that now it’s actually about to get hard.

Now my kids are adults. And they’re awesome. They’re literally, freaking awesome adult people with hearts and souls of children still, and the people closest to them adore them. And they adore their crews back. As they should.

And as my wife and I now embark on the rest of our lives with all four of our parents “lost” I’m convinced more than ever that I want our kids to have to search for us as little as possible. Running the course together and passing the baton is really all any of us have at the end of day. I hope to make it easier every day for my kids to see it coming.