Tough Being a Grown Up

I had breakfast with my old friend the other morning, and I asked him about his aging mother. She's in her late 70s, and has been declining for the last 10 years, since her husband died. Her husband was one of my favorite people --a true mentor. I think about him all the time.

Anyway, the mother lives upstate, and my friend visits her as often as he can. His sister lives close by, with her domestic partner. She complains to her brother that watching her mother decline, and the care it requires, is "no fun." The sister, who is my age, was always a master of understatement.

The heavy lifting in relationships is never any fun. Kissing and hugging adorable babies is the nice part; true love comes in changing dirty diapers, and staying up all night with their illnesses.

It strikes me that some of the grade school scolds had it right: immaturity is avoiding the unpleasant realities of life, while being a grown up involves tackling them head on.

I understand this intimately, which is why I'm very careful about assuming responsibility. My girls are the world to me, and I savor them, but I can't IMAGINE having any more kids.

So many friends in second and third marriages take on entirely new step families. It would kill me. The problems and concerns of my own little group of ladies are plenty for me.

I guess the answer, to be able to deal with the blended families, is the ability to say, essentially, "Hey it's not my job." I just don't see it --children are either your responsibility or they're not.

Wifey has a pretty full time just dealing with her elderly parents, and helping out with my mother. As they age, everything is daunting, like it was when they were children.

To me, the real love comes with the changing of diapers, with the assumption of the responsibility. Yeah --it AIN'T no fun, but it's what being a grown up is all about.