Why We Do What We Do

Recently, our grown children seem to wonder why Donn and I do some of the things we have been doing. From the colors we chose for painting our house, our decision to revisit the dog show circuit with our smooth collie, Bella, and our discussions about possibly becoming RV folks who travel from place to place, towing all our worldly belongings in a trailer, hooked to a truck.

We both find it interesting that, as parents, we tried to give our kids enough room to make some pretty important decisions for themselves. They did come to us for guidance; we were confident that we'd given them a strong moral foundation and, they then went down whatever path they chose. Of course, they knew that, no matter the outcome of their decisions, good or bad, happy or sad, we would be there for them. When they triumphed, we cheered. If they crumbled, we picked up the pieces. If the results of their endeavors were somewhere in between, then we laughed and cried all at the same time, standing firmly by their sides.

You hear about the role reversal that occurs as parents become older and unable to make sound decisions for themselves. Children have to step in and assume responsibility for the needs of their parents. Donn and I sense that our children are starting to become very protective of us. Not that we're ready to have them plan what assisted living facility we're going to end up in or any other decisions remotely close to that topic. It's rather sweet, honestly, that they now feel how we've felt about them throughout their lives. Keeping a watchful eye on us should we stray someplace we'd rather not be.

But, to the question of why we do what we do, the answer is simply this...it gives us a sense of belonging. We spent so many years where every decision we made was weighed against what was best for our children, first and foremost. What Donn and I wanted or needed never came into play if their needs/wants were greater. Then, all of a sudden, they are grown-ups, with careers, families, responsibiliites, and places of their own. We are no longer the Duke and Duchess of Parent Involvement.

Showing Bella has allowed us to reconnect with our very first mentor and friend, Maureen. Twenty-five years ago, we brought home our first collie, Merlyn, from one of Maureen's breedings. That began the journey into obedience and conformation dog shows, breeding and training collies, and the making of memories that will last forever in our hearts and the hearts of Tara and Troy. It's also opened the door to new friends, today, who share our love of the breed and we're having a ball being part of something again. We're looked upon as mentors, with knowledge and experiences to learn from. On the flip side, Donn and I enjoy being able to learn, from our younger friends, all those things that have changed since our heyday, if you will.

The RV thing? Well, there were discussions. Albeit they were brief, but there was an open dialogue between Donn and I. Did we come to an agreement? Only that I would entertain the thought of kind of sorta being able to spend some time traveling and living as a gypsy, as long as I had a home to go to at the end of our adventures. A home that my children, grandchildren, family and friends could call Mom and Dad's/Mimi and Papa's/Shari and Donn's home.

As to the decisions about the colors chosen for the remodeling of our house, well, those decisions are all mine. Donn is self-admittedly color blind and has deferred to me on all things. I've put a lot of thought into the choices I've made, weighed the alternatives, sought the advice of property professionals, threw my instincts into the mix and, unafraid, gone forward. That's been the best feeling. Not the decisions; the going forward. The being involved in something new, challenging, and exciting. It's a renewal, reconnection, and the beginning of something special. That's why we do what we do.