My mom passed from this life to whatever comes next, at this time six years ago. I found this photo of her and I today. She was a wonderful woman who most of all loved her children. Of many exceptional things she did for my brother and I, one stands out to me the most now…. My mother let me be DARING.
In high school, I scaled the town water tower (illegal and dangerous!) and spray painted my girlfriend and I’s name across it in red. My mom struck a balance. She said, “Patrick you better be careful with shenanigan’s like that and you better not fall!) That’s tacit permission right there! She didn’t shut down my sense of daring.
She knew when I would leave the house to trespass for a ‘night mission’ onto the private property of the working lumber mill next door, at risk of arrest – she didn’t try to stop me. She merely advised, “Be careful because if you get arrested you’re responsible for the consequences.” That’s good council, not control.
She once told me at a very harrowing moment during my now fairly known “$95,000” adventure, “Son, I’m not going to tell you to stop doing things like this because when you stop taking risks, life get’s very boring.” There it was again – a wink and nod of permission to cross the line.
My mother blessed me with the confidence to be DARING and it enabled me to follow my bliss, even though your bliss leads you squarely into the highly uncertain, adventurous unknown! But I already knew the feelings of adventure (fear and joy). I already knew how to dare.
Today, parenting often goes the opposite direction, teaching children to be afraid of risk, to play it super safe. How does one follow their bliss safely? It’s impossible! Bliss is calling you to an adventure in risk and reward!
I see it now, people raised afraid to dare for their dreams. Children being raised afraid to do something that might be even slightly dangerous or uncertain. It makes me doubly grateful that somehow my mother knew she wanted her children to be brave and adventurous.
I love this photo of my mother and I. I see a Mexican single mother. I see a woman with a GED. I see a nurse who worked night shifts so that she didn’t have to have her kids raised by babysitters during the day. I see a woman who overcame a horrendous childhood, a divorce, a broken heart, a shattered soul – and through it all, found a way to lift her boys to peaks higher than she could even see.
And I see awesome pants on me!
Miss you mom. Thank you.
Love, Son.
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