On the mid-December day that I wrote this editor’s note, I received an email from a former intern, now a college senior, asking if she could use me as a job reference. A good idea, for I was deeply impressed with her as a writer and as a person. We caught up in a series of emails, and I learned that her dad had died unexpectedly in the last year.
My wife and I are “older” parents, so news like that inevitably prompts a twinge of anxiety that one day my children will find themselves in their early 20s without my wife and I to bother them. My fear is somewhat mitigated by knowing this particular girl: I have a gut feeling that her ability, work ethic, and temperament is likely, with some basic luck, to lead to a life of success and happiness.
I wonder how she remembers her father, and the kinds of feelings that are now interred in her mind and heart. I lost my dad in my late 20s, and my mom in my mid-30s. Too young. And, yet, in the scoreboard of life, I felt loved and had good relationships with both of them—and I believe those facts and feelings have sustained me in much the same way as if my parents were still alive. The bigger loss, as I see it, has been for my children, who never got to be loved by my parents. If I could change one thing in my life, in fact, it would probably be for my children—and my wife—to know my parents.
A new year is as good a time as any to review and renew one’s commitment to be a good and loving parent. Our relationship to our children is our most important legacy to them. My children are now 14 and 10. Both are perfect, of course. But if I could somehow excite them about certain aspects of living that have been helpful to me, it would to embrace patience, curiosity, hard work, fairness, amiability, and generosity. And that will be my New Year’s resolution.
Have a happy January,
Eric Messinger
Editor, [email protected]
