Dependence

When my grandmother died, my grandfather was pretty helpless. He had gone through most of his life without ever knowing how to make himself something as simple as an egg. And my grandmother never worked in a factory or fought in a world war. They were dependent on each other.

I want my daughter to be a helluva strong, independent woman. My entire household is insanely independent: Three Aries and a wiener dog. Tell someone to do something around here, and the opposite will happen - right after the tantrums.

But are you going to go through life being entirely independent?

Or is there hidden beauty in being dependent, knowing that someone in your life will have your back no matter what?

I think of my wife breastfeeding our daughter.

I think of baby birds being fed grasshoppers by mama bird.

I think of my grandfather lovingly taking care of my terminally ill grandmother.

I moved 5,000 miles away from home at the age of 16. I've always strived for independence and am proud of it.

But here is the thing. As I think about the human experience and my own experience, maybe some level of dependence is very healthy.

I'd love to go through life knowing I can always depend on my wife and vice versa. I have some friends who I want to know, and they can depend on me no matter what. I'd love for our daughter to feel that way about us. Do I want her to live with us until she's my age? Probably not. And vice versa.

I don't think anyone (full disclosure, I haven't been there, fortunately) gets to the end of their life and feels immense gratitude that they aren't or never have been dependent on anyone. As I progress through this life journey, I recognize that, in many ways, my grandparents had many things right all along.

Isn't there immense beauty in knowing that you can entirely depend on someone else and they can fully rely on you?

I think so.