Parental Rewards

Sometimes you wonder...

Did I do anything with or for my kids that had an impact?

Oh, sure.  I kept them fed and sheltered and chauffeured decades of sports team and music competition trips.  Braces, uniforms, instruments, tuxedos and Grad Nite tickets would not have happened if I hadn't gone to work (pretty much against my desire, if not my will). 

And university.  Yikes.

It was good times, well worth the effort and money, for me.  And I'm sure for them, too.

But today I read the most heartwarming and validating posts from my son on facebook.

He and my new daughter-in-law are on a weekend trip to Seattle.  (I'm doggy sitting Dodger, who is now nine years old).

#1 - They are there to see these guys.

Ladysmith Black Mambazo.

I don't remember who actually bought the Graceland vinyl in which Paul Simon introduced this family to this fabulous chorus, but since I had been a Simon and Garfunkel fan since the early days and continued to be a Paul Simon fan after the break-up, I suspect it was me.  I know I was the one to buy the Shaka Zulu album.

My son is SO excited.  Even his 6-7 English teacher remembers what a huge fan of theirs he was lo, those many moons ago.

#2  Now, they are there for four days, so posted on facebook a request for recommendations of other things to do or see.  I've never been there, but when I go, I look forward to the Chihuly studio and garden installation.  So that was my suggestion (which was made by another friend as well.) 

They checked it out.

Image by Melanie Biehlel, seattlerefined

My son was so impressed and excited, he said he wants to design a drum corps field show inspired by what he saw.  Highest praise.

#3  This is the one that made me tear up.  Again.

This son couldn't have been more than three when I fell in love with the little paperback books by Stephen Cosgrove, illustrated by Robin James.  I bought several and read them to the boys.  When I could get them to be still long enough.  And with this kid, that was pretty seldom.

Well, today he posted excitedly that he found a copy of Wheedle on the Needle and bought one for his son, due in May.  And he asked how old he had been when I read it to him.

He remembered that I read him this book when he was very, very little.  And bought a copy for his own child.

Sigh.