When we are kids, we have friends. We have sleepovers, summer camp, summer vacation, Christmas vacation, Spring Break, and loads of other happy things to celebrate. Sure, not everyone had a rosy childhood, but even the most awful memories are dulled by time.
When we reach adulthood, we lose these little celebrations, bit by bit. We lose most of our vacations and find out our parents weren't kidding when they said we had it easy. We stop having sleepovers, and trade those instead for one permanent sleepover with a husband or wife. I don't think some people ever really get the hang of that one.
We have kids of our own, and fully understand why our parents were so freaked out by us all of the time...why they hated our music and didn't understand our language or the fashion choices we'd made. We finally "get it," it comes to us in a moment of clarity, "Oh my God, you were right. You were right about everything."
I asked my mother once, while going through some troubles with my own daughter, "Mom, how the hell did you survive me?" Her answer was, "I don't know. I just loved you, and hoped for the best." I guess that's all we can do, right?
I wonder sometimes if we are going about things all wrong. Maybe, if we made life one big celebration, we wouldn't miss the little ones as badly when we grow up. Maybe it would eliminate "midlife crisis"...maybe our friendships wouldn't grow so far apart. Maybe we'd find better things to celebrate than growing another year older. Or maybe, it would just screw up the whole order of things. Maybe adulthood is supposed to be difficult, and lonely sometimes.
I dunno, if my mother were still here, I'd ask her. She was pretty smart...
