Parenting Final Exam

Here's a column from April that I forgot to post. Hope you enjoy!
Your child’s choice for a spouse is the final exam in parenting, right?
Observing my daughter choose who she was willing to spend her life with revealed all kinds of things about her heart and values. So, it makes sense that her choice could be considered the ultimate test of our parenting.
Recently, as that beautiful bride floated down the aisle on the trembly arm of her father, her chiffon skirt stirring around her ankles, gold shoes on feet that were trying not to skip, to the side of her beloved who was smiling as if he was the luckiest human on earth, I couldn’t help but feel that we aced that test. Mainly because she chose a husband who invests wisely and generously in all his relationships.
On the other hand, it turns out I was wrong about it being the final exam.
For parents, our kids’ choice of a spouse is only the mid-term.
I turns out that how we die is the last true test of our parenting.
Yeah, this sounds kind of morbid, given that we just had a wedding. But, you know, those kids are on their honeymoon. I’m pretty sure they are not thinking too much about us; at least I hope not.
The truth is Life has a way of juxtaposing beginnings and endings on us whether we like it or not.
I learned this in the last few years as I watched scleroderma slowly take my husband’s father away from us a few months before the wedding.
Scleroderma, for those of you who have happily avoided knowing anything about it, is an autoimmune disease that slowly freezes your organs and your skin.
We watched as Bill heroically and daily faced increasing physical pain with dignity and perseverance.
As his body failed, his bright blue eyes increasingly reflected the depth of his faith and the shining beauty of his soul.
Some of the best conversations with him were when I asked him about what he had learned through suffering.
People are always surprised that I ask so freely about death and about suffering. I figure I’ll be taking those tests soon enough; it won’t hurt me to study up.
Of course, a true exam tests our character, not our knowledge. That’s the beauty of the process.
In the final days before we closed his eyes for the last time, Bill demonstrated the power and beauty of dieing the way he had lived, with his eyes toward heaven.
Weddings and Funerals. Life and Death. Beginnings. Endings, followed by unseen, unknown Beginnings.
I couldn’t help but think of my dad-in-law as my daughter vowed her heart, life, and faith to her new husband.
Cathy Primer Krafve, aka Checklist Charlie, lives in beautiful East Texas with her husband and unmarried children. Comments are welcome at CaeKrafve2@aol.com.