The "Life Jacket" Effect

This morning Robert called from his workplace with important news. He had received a promotion and they were negotiating a pay raise. We were, of course, thrilled for him. On our extension phones Jim and I immediately began our ritual: “Don’t forget to remind them (his employer) of how much money your work has saved them this year. Make sure they make up the difference you’ll be losing in overtime pay.” We honestly can’t help ourselves! We are compelled to do this to him.

It was apparent he was anxious to get off the phone with us after a couple of minutes of that—plus he had to get back to work. Moments later I started to feel a little bit on the officious side and tapped out a short email to explain.

Robert Dear,

Whenever you share some important news, I know we always do this to you—start reminding you of all the things you should remember and do. It’s the “life jacket effect,” Kiddo. As I saw you sailing through the air over Lake Grapevine’s black waters, realizing at that moment that I had forgotten to double check your life jacket, my heart pounded in terror. My heart pounds as I write about it.

Telling you later that you should have done this or remembered to ask that would be like making sure the life jacket was fastened after the accidental drowning. It’s a parent thing.

Hope you know we share in your excitement and enjoy contributing when and where we can. Love, Mom

The Boating Adventure

When Robert was a small boy our neighbors invited us to go with them for a day of boating fun on Lake Grapevine. They had one of those inflatable tubes that you can ride in and be dragged behind the speedboat. Robert and I climbed into the tube together and were sailing along over the water when we hit a wake wave and were bounced off the tube and hurled separately through the air. The waters of Lake Grapevine are murky at best—a grown man can’t see his feet in four feet of water. It was at that moment that I remembered that I had forgotten to check to make sure Robert’s life jacket was properly fastened. Fortunately, the other mom had checked it for him.

It still haunts me. I still see the black water of the lake in my dreams. My heart races now as I write about it. As I paddled through the water to reach him, silently firing off one prayer of thanks after another, I knew I’d never forget that moment. I felt as if God had fired a warning shot at me: “Pay attention! Always remember to check Our boy’s life jacket!”

Later, when Robert was beginning to gain more and more independence, I would remind him of the dangers he might encounter as he set out on his adventures. We talked about “stranger danger;” I taught him about parking lot safety and internet safety. The poor boy practically had zits before I’d let him go into a men’s room by himself at the mall. Whenever he would set out without me, I’d think, “Did I teach him everything I could to keep him safe?

So Robert, my dear, I hope you understand that ever since that day on Lake Grapevine, I've just been trying to make sure your Life Jacket is fastened.

Donna