An Open Letter: Mom

Occasionally I feel the need to explain some of my other methods of getting back into writing. Most of my friends know that I'm an avid writer of paper letters sent through the post and emails. This may not come as a surprise to anyone, but such close friends also know that I prefer the former to the latter.

I use a thick stationary and continue to write in hand using a fountain pen. Usually sending out a post to at least three friends or family members each month. I even blot my letters shut with a wax seal (dorky as that may seem, getting one has always put a smile on the recipient's face.)

The following post fits my theme this week of going home for a week. I wrote an email to my mother while she and I were both at our respective workplaces. As I'm about to see her in a few days, I felt that the speed of an email would better serve than once paid for with 39¢. After all, I'd win the race begun by the USPS. Enjoy this excerpt.

"I'm reading the Oregonian's Opinion section tonight (a "Sunday-evening-at-work" staple of mine) only to see that Susan Nielsen has a great column on "helicopter parents." These, she infers with her catechism, are the parents of college students that remain close to their offspring to the point of total coddling... as though the student had entered kindergarten or elementary school rather than a University. Emails, cell phones and other technological advancements allow the parents and students to remain in contact several times a day as opposed to the few times a month as was the norm only 10 to 15 years ago.

"Reading this article caused me to think back on how you handled it when I moved both to Eugene in 1994 and up here in 2002. I can't say thank you enough for being so far removed from the stereotype Nielsen describes today. You were not then and have never been a "helicopter mother." Hovering over my progress, ready to dive in and lower a rope to help me out of troubled waters into which I'd placed myself. Perhaps it was because we lived on the Oregon coast that this metaphor fits so well for us?

"I knew that I'd been taught the fundimentals as to how to swim and to sail the ocean of life while living at home. You and Dad always at the beach with me or at home when I was out with friends upon whom we could rely. You have been my Coast Guard, occasionally out sweeping the area for dangerous reefs and inspecting other vessels afloat. All the while you encouraged me to take responsibility for my own maritime practice: packing the proper safety gear; rationing supplies; inviting others to explore new areas of the sea; never overlooking the ocean for the beauty that it is.

"I feel true sympathy for those children that need to float in smaller boats or feel to dependent on others and so must remained moored to the docks. All the while, their parents extend the rope as they drift further and further out to sea, constantly looking back or at the pretty objects floating about. Meanwhile they are oblivious to the tides and other boats ready to crash over them. Their folly in this sea grew because they or their parents had taught them to fear whenever they couldn't touch the bottom of the pond with their feet. Also they feel overconfident thinking they can remain afloat indefinately thanks to the water-wings that their parents have long provided without want or expectation of reimbursment.

"You're a true guardian, Mom, as was Dad. What I've learned about sailing these seas has made me Captain of my own life. I have a fine crew and a star to steer by. It remains my honor to explore and learn and share."

The article I mention can be found here.