Independence

Oh dear, it's already been a week since my last post.
I've been very distracted (see: what can happen when you don't have a book contract).
After posting the first chapter of my new novel (see: While You're Here: Chapter 1) I decided to quickly put together a cookbook. The folks over at TasteBook are brilliant - and I simply couldn't resist. After entering in 25 of my most often used recipes and uploading photos I designed the dedication page and picked a cover and now I am waiting (not) patiently for it to arrive. (whereisitwhereisit.)
So there was that.
Then there was actual work - the kind I get paid for.
And then there was a mini crisis at home.
My son did something very lame. I won't go into specifics, but it caused a lot of commotion and calling of people like locksmiths and credit card companies (which included an epic conversation with the most incompetent customer service representative that wound up with me screaming, "Give me someone else! Put someone else on the phone now!") and wondering about why and how such a thing could happen. My father had one mandate for us growing up (okay, maybe more than one but this was a biggie) and that was: Don't be lame. My son had violated this cardinal rule so badly that I had to really get down into the crinkly depths of his thought processes to figure out what had gone on. This is always a difficult thing to do and at first I was just angry at him. Which I told him in no uncertain terms.
He got that part. And after I calmed down I was able to have a discussion with him (which is still going on two days later) about what he did and what it meant and how it had shaken my confidence in his ability to make good decisions.
He got that too.
But soon afterwards, he came back to me with a more sophisticated version of "How long are you going to be upset about this?" Since he became verbal, my son has known how to ask this question and although he's become used to getting more open-ended answers, he still really likes to have a schedule, a plan, a grid off which to work.
How long will you be upset?
When will you trust me again?
At what point will your confidence in me return?
It was an astonishing thing to realize--when he was much, much younger--that guilt would never work on my son, that he would never be manipulated by it. The overlay of parental guilt is an almost reflexive action, I realized. Who really wants to make a child feel bad? On the other hand, if "go ahead dance on my grave" gets the job done... But this never worked on my son. He would acknowledge the anger/frustration/annoyance/hurt or whatever it was and then he would immediately move to: how long will you hold onto this? Please let me know when you expect to be over it.
Living, loving, and raising a person like this does many things to change one's perspective on life (and any of you who have read Raising Blaze already know this story in part) but one of the most important, as I was reminded again, is that it frees one from the need to hang on to anger.
What I mean by this is that in so many situations, we find ourselves clinging to the hurt or the anger we either rightly or wrongly perceive as being caused by another person. There is some sort of weird solace in this for a minute or two but it doesn't last. Eventually the anger corrodes and you forget what it was that you were upset about in the first place and are just left with a dark sludge of wretchedness. To be asked, "When will you get over yourself and be done with this?" is like a slap in the face at first because, dammit, do you understand that I am upset because of what you did but then you think about the logic behind it.
My son likes to plan for a better, less chaotic future where I am not angry or upset and do not need to lecture him endlessly on his failings. Who can blame him? And so this time I let it go very quickly.
"I'm not angry anymore," I told him. "I'm not sure when I'll feel completely confident that you won't do something like that again but I believe you won't make that mistake again. Let's move forward."
"Okay," he said, "that works for me."
My son teaches me all the time. The lessons aren't always easy and they don't always go down smoothly but they are all valuable. It's especially true with this latest effort. Because being able to let go of anger, frustration, and even, for a minute, anxiety is to truly experience independence.
That's my independence story for this lovely July 4th.
I hope you're having a wonderful day. Thanks for reading. Oh, and I'll post Chapter 2 soon.
I made some Americookies. Here, have one.

Americookies