THE FAILURE LIE
A friend recently asked me for parenting advice. My oldest is preparing to leave my house for college, her first was just born.
Be prepared to feel like you are often failing, I heard myself tell her.
And learn to assure yourself this is entirely untrue.
As part of my son’s graduation day, memory boards were displayed highlighting moments of each student’s life. Think science fair meets parent homework. While these boards were meant to honor the graduates, there would be little pretending that the presentations were not also a barometer of a parent’s level of love, so I set out to complete my son’s board in epic fashion.
Through the beauty of technology and the fact that my children’s lives began alongside the introduction of digital photography, I was able to quickly scour my son’s youth and gather 864 photos that an AI program assembled into a mosaic of his senior portrait.
Mom of the year material right there.
In the process of searching for photos I was on automatic, so little time, so many years of digital photos to click through. But when it came time to upload the hundreds of beauties I had collected, I was treated to an entirely different experience.
One-by-one, at a rate of about one second per image, the photos uploaded.
One-by-one, at a rate of about one second per image, I was walked through the life of my son.
One-by-one, at a rate of about one second per image, I was reminded of my time as a mom.
Interlaced between those 864 photos were so many memories never captured on film, but yet evoked by the nearness in time to the image. I was overwhelmed with smiles and laughter and all the events we long to remember, while reminded of the moments that fell unpreserved in between.
In a fifteen minute span of time I watched my son come into life, grow, change, vacation, adventure, play, learn, achieve, laugh, succeed, bond and become a man.
I often felt like I was failing.
But as the photos passed by, I was reminded this was entirely untrue.
We did well, I thought.
We stayed engaged, we cared, we searched the depth of our very beings for everything we could give and pulled on all of our strength to hand every bit of our hearts to our son.
In the day-to-day details there were so many steps of parenting advice to follow, so many milestones that should have been met, so many to-do’s and don’t-ever-do’s that we sought to follow. But looking back over the big brush strokes of life there were really only a few things that truly mattered.
We were imperfect, but we were present.
We made mistakes, but we loved.
We often felt exhausted, not-enough and beyond our capabilities, but we remained.
We did well, I think.
Mine are not so little anymore, but I doubt the internal accusations of failure ever fade. And so I turn to myself for parenting advice as I look forward.
Be prepared to feel like you are often failing, I hear myself say.
And learn to assure yourself this is entirely untrue.