How Do You Do It?

A few years ago, (I don't know how many. I'm at the point it feels like it was two years ago, whether it was two or fifteen. Other than my childhood, I'm done with accuracy as far as year of events)
I was invited to a James Taylor and Carol King concert. 

My friend invited a half dozen of us, all the same age (we graduated high school together). He fed us a wonderful meal, the concert was about five minutes from his house, and I stayed over as did another friend so we didn't have the long drive home late at night.

Talking to my mother later, she was worried until Husband called to tell her I had a great time and was headed home. 

The reason she was worried was because one of her friends saw on the news there was a big fight in the parking lot of a concert in Atlanta that night with several people hurt and one killed.

Was that the concert I attended? Did I know anything about it?

I told her I didn't know anything about the fight, but could assure her it wasn't at the concert I attended. "Mother, it was baby boomers in BMW's and Mercedes Benz. They wouldn't have dared fight, it might have scuffed their docksiders or torn their polo shirts." 

That story brings to mind something I continue to struggle with. That struggle consists of being the mother of an adult child. How do you do it?

How do you leave behind the infant that couldn't even raise their head? The toddler, that if not watched every single moment would have: a. fallen down the stairs breaking their neck b. fallen up the stairs knocking out their new baby teeth or c. swallowed either poison or dog food. How do you leave behind the preschooler who thought you knew what they dreamt about if you were in the dream? Or the kid who couldn't get well for a while and you just about lost your mind? Or the teenager who still stayed close and obeyed your every command? (okay, okay, I exaggerated there a little).

How do you do it?

How do you keep your mouth shut? How do you not fret as if they were still a little kid?

I saw a sign yesterday that said, "When  your children are little you talk to them about Jesus, and when  your children are grown you talk to Jesus about them."

Amen.

Famous People I Have Known

Jesse James, Michael Fox, William James, Michael Nichols (but not Diane Sawyer), Henry James, Tim Rice (but not Andrew Lloyd Webber), John Hancock, James Taylor, Betty Crocker, Johnny Cash, James Bond.

I was discussing the budget with my boss one day at work, so when my phone buzzed saying I had a call, I ignored it. The secretary, thinking I was wandering around the building somewhere, came on the building intercom speaker and announced, "Kathi, James Bond is on line two for you."

My boss raised an eyebrow and said, "By all means!"

I answered the call in a cool voice, "Yes, Mr. Bond?"

I listened for a moment then replied, "That's correct. It is the men's toilet that is stopped up."

Maybe my title should have been people I have known who have a famous name.

The James Taylor I know doesn't think it's funny when people ask him if he can sing.

Betty Crocker always smiled and said yes, she could cook, but probably not as good as the other one.

Jesse James was my great-great uncle. I always thought when I was a kid how cool it was that I had an honest to goodness outlaw in my family.

Well, obviously he wasn't the Jesse James, anymore than his brother, Henry James was the famous writer of realism, nor the other brother, William, the great philosopher and psychologist (the famous Henry and William were brothers too!)

I don't think it would be much fun to have a famous name, especially a very famous name. Hey, I get annoyed when I google my name, Kathi Harper Hill and get Hill Harper, the actor/writer. I can only hope  that I show up when he googles himself sometimes.

I'm sure it can't be helped occasionally. After all, some famous people have common names: Will Smith, for instance. I bet there are a boatload of them around, and all but one get kidded about their name.

However; if you are expecting a little one in the near future, do them a favor: name them something that doesn't have a famous ring to it.

Sincerely,

Jane Doe