You will know your young matriculating adult sons and daughters have transitioned into adulthood when:
Your efforts as parents are acknowledged, appreciated, articulated and somewhat or approximately understood. They are aware of the commitments you made to facilitate their arrival at this juncture in their lives.
Your shortcomings as parents are not denied but are not used or held against you as weapons or as excuses for thier own shortcomings. Your sons and daughters are living without blame.
“Thank you” and “please” comes easy and both are expressed near – to you, to family, to loved ones – and far – to strangers and servers and to those who can do nothing for your young adults in return.
You are able to recognize there’s an acceptance of “the way things are” and that within the way things are there exist multiple opportunities and challenges. Some challenges are to be addressed and solved, some will not. Your budding adult is identifying what it means to “go with the flow of life” and when flow ought to be resisted.
Your young adults respond to your calls and texts because they come from you. They may “ghost” others but choose to respond, when possible, to you. They recognize that as parents, you occupy a unique place in their lives, deserving of appropriate and efficient responses.
Amazon may deliver your make-up, your books, even your Thanksgiving turkey and everything else under the sun.
Kroger delivers groceries.
UberEats will deliver french fries to your door at midnight if you need them that badly.
But, and this is a big one.
Who delivered you?
Who delivered the people you love and who have loved you?
Who was the physician who brought you into the world, brought your parents and uncles and aunts into the world? Who facilitated your first cry, cleaned you up for the first time?
Chances are Dr. Phyllis Grant was right there to help you out.
If you came into this wonderful world in the mid-sixites and the momentous event of your birth occurred in Henry County you probably encountered Dr. Grant long before you knew it.
“I delivered approximately 2000 babies and only one pair of twins,” Phyllis texted me — yes, she texts, tell that to your grandmother – when I requested a few details.
Dr. Grant, one of Indiana University’s first female medical graduates, delivered babies here in New Castle for many years and maybe you’re one of them.
Phyllis will be 100 on October 31, 2025.
Let me spell that out: one-hundred-years-old.
A faithful and vibrant member of First Presbyterian Church for many many many years, First Pres New Castle will pull out all the stops in order to honor their sports fanatic doc.
The open house will be on Sunday, October 26, 2025 from 1 to 3 pm at the church building on the corner of 12th and Ray Pavy Street (opposite what is commonly referred to as the “old YMCA”).
Pastor Reverend Katherine Rieder, the Elders, the Deacons, the Trustees and every member of that faith vibrant community invites you to participate whether Dr. Grant delivered you or not.
You’re welcome even if it is to meet Dr. Grant and her remarkable church community.
You read right.
Phyllis is a sports fanatic.
At 99 Phyllis remains that and much more.
Phyllis goes monthly to the symphony concert in downtown Indianapolis.
Only the Lord knows how many Indy 500 races she has attended and only the Lord knows how many trips she’s made to Bloomington for IU Football and Basketball games.
If you are reading this the Open House for Phyllis held by First Presbyterian Church is open to you. You’re invited to drop in, greet Phyllis, indulge in refreshments and spend time with people who may or may not have seen for some time. Perhaps you live in her neighbourhood or have met her at symphony or the Indy 500.
Perhaps you’ll come because she was your grandmother’s good friend.
However your life has intersected with Dr. Grant (or not) the congregation First Presbyterian New Castle at the corner of 12th and Ray Pavy Street welcomes you to celebrate with this remarkable, generous, kind, woman.
But, may I warn you.
If you want to see Phyllis don’t get there after 3pm on Sunday, October 26, 2025.
Dr. Grant has already announced she’ll be out of there by 3pm to get home for the Colts game.
Seek someone who considers himself or herself to be a fellow learner and who is exploring his or her own life and family.
Seek someone who will challenge you to find your true Self which you may have lost in marriage, or parenting, or career. He or she will challenge you to be your appropriate size which you may have compromised to fit in or beloved and accepted. He or she may have to help you to trim down your size after you expanded into bullying behavior during periods of self-doubt.
Seek someone who knows therapy sessions are about process, about reactivity, rigidity, fusions, cut-offs, triangulations, over-functioning, under-functioning and not content.
Seek someone who helps you identify and clarify your helpful and unhelpful attitudes and behaviors so you may gain clarity and self-awareness, pathways to personal responsibility, blame avoidance, greater maturity.
Seek someone who is an expert in the Art of Listening, someone who is curious about you and your life but is not inquisitive about it. Someone who knows the difference between empathy & anxiety, love & worry, thinking & feeling, asking questions & being inquisitive and intrusive.
Seek someone who can engage you and be an advocate for your health and strength and who believes you know what is good and healthy for yourself. He or she will get out of your way, avoid trying to read your mind, and avoid offering you insights and interpretations that you are fully equipped to discover and uncover for yourself.
As a caucasian man traveling alone with my African American son (5) and African American infant I realized I was triggering intrigue in some parts of the world, well, most parts.
“Where did you get your boys?” a person may randomly ask.
Yes, I specifically recall it happening on a plane or two and in an airport bus. It even occurred once in the London underground, where in retrospect, the person must have really wanted to know given the “no talk” rule.
I recall being flippant or playful or casual in my reply and I learned quickly a few ways to express “it’s none of your business.”
But, I did not always respond this way.
Sometimes I detected a longing in the questioner, an ache, and, if there was time enough to really answer the question I did.
I found myself answering fully if children asked.
One morning during Nathanael’s kindergarten days one of his classmates approached me.
“Mr. Smith, where is Nathanael’s mommy?” and as gently as I knew how I told Andrew we did not know (which remain the truth) and that I was Nate’s only parent.
Tears steamed down Andrew’s face and he ran off.
All I could imagine was that the boy, in that brief encounter, had imagined his own life without his wonderful mother.
A fellow parent presented me with this painting of Nathanael and me during Nate’s kindergarten years. I did see her taking a photograph of us a few days before she presented me with this treasured gift.
I spent weeks with a group of international students teaching what constitutes healthy relationships and mental health.
Several participatory exercises encouraged assertiveness from participants.
During a break 4 (single) women from the same leading industrial nation asked to speak privately with me. They informed me that if they lived according to the principles I was teaching no man from their culture would love or want them. Haltingly, they declared, their men want weak women, needy women, women who expect her man to be in charge.
Consequently I have routinely, on 5 continents, encouraged women to become the kind of people weak men find terrifying. Similarly I encourage men and boys to become the kind of men who welcome and embrace strong, self-starting, interdependent women.
Interdependent?
People who know how much they need others and how much they don’t.
Weak men will, and do, confuse love and control, even regard control as some form of spiritual gift – and this they do in all areas of their lives.
Such control or “care” parades as love and will seduce a woman looking for a “strong” man, any man.
I assured my students that there are indeed men within their culture who are men enough to love women who are women enough to be strong and assertive women.
Health and strength attract health and strength.
Love and control cannot co-exist in any relationship.
There is great power and pleasure in stopping, being still, getting off the treadmill of activity, halting your mind from scanning and searching and being on duty. There’s great pleasure and power in resting, reading nothing, checking nothing, getting caught up with nothing.
There is great pleasure and power in observing the surroundings, picking up designer themes, details which are easy to miss if seeing is done without concentration, or seeing is done without looking. To look deliberately can be transforming.
There is great power and pleasure and sometimes pain in listening with intensity to what people are saying. It may facilitate hearing what others are not saying which may be the core of a desired, even desperate message. What is skirted and avoided will be heard by the avid and trained listener. Listening is a full body activity.
There is great power and pleasure in choosing to be present, to be near, to be focussed on what another person needs, wants to say, confesses fears, admits to loneliness, is anxious about almost everything. Presence is a gift that it seems few are aware they are able to give. Silence and presence often hold hands.
There is great power in choosing to love even though he or she who seeks to love will seek no power (Msimimngu, in Paton’s Cry, The Beloved Country).
A week later I can think and write — this one time – more objectively about my son, Thulani’s, wedding to Alaina. The lavish event, his in-laws resisted no expense, included 175 guests, was as perfect as I can imagine.
The saxophonist and pianist played a soothing “Have I Told You Lately That I Love You” – Van Morrison’s version was Thulani’s first favorite piece of music, a smidgen ahead of anything Barney –and I was first to walk down the aisle of the historical landmark church to begin and officite my son’s wedding.
On reaching the lectern I turned to face the packed sanctuary.
There were men and women who’d walked with me through every phase of both my sons’ lives and hundreds of members of the bride’s friends, family and extended family.
The groom entered and, after his slow walk down the aisle, he threw his arms around me. Then came his brother, Nathanael, followed by 7 groomsmen. The stunning eight bridesmaids entered one-by-one to the delight of the expressive diverse congregation.
The sanctuary doors closed and we waited.
When the music changed, the congregation stood, and the bride entered arm-in-arm with her dad, and at the end of their walk, the bride’s mother joined her husband for a coordinated kiss and both placed Alaina’s hands into my son’s hands the bride and groom turned to face life-long family and friends, many of whom have loved and supported each from birth.
Sometimes our father was silent on matters I’d hope he’d respond, defend himself, speak up, correct errors, adjust and align to brings matters a little more in his favor.
But now, I think I understand, or at least I am beginning to understand.
He seemed to sit and watch, observing closely all that was gong on around him, taking it all in, and I’d wait for an assessment but he’d offer none.
I think that now I understand.
Sometimes our father relayed naval stories of such graphic violence with such painful and long-lasting ramifications that I’d wish he’d hold his silence.
But, he could not.
Action at sea and losses of friends to the water, the onboard fires, the sirens and warnings of imminent attack were buried deeply in his memory and left him a gentle man, tolerant, but not naming of fools. He was one who entertained wild and youthful ideas while seeing it all against a backdrop requiring he not respond, speak up, correct the errors, adjust and align or brings matters a little more in his favor.
Perhaps, even though I hsve never faced action at sea or the graphic fears that are the backdrop of war, I can begin to understand why I tend to choose silence when others may prefer me to respond.
Learn the ART of living fully in your own head, and only, in your own head. Think for yourself. Try not to interfere when others think for themselves even when they express thoughts you’d never think. It’s allowed. MINDing yourown business, avoiding crossovers, is a crucial and necessary art in the empowering business. Like everything, it begins at home. Your spouse, adult sons and daughters, your parents, all the adults you know have unique brains capable of their own thinking. You may find this harder than it sounds if you are accustomed to living in multiple heads other than your own, and in yourown.
Why is this important? It’s fundamental to trust, growth, respect, equality, mutuality and all those good things. I’d suggest it would be highly disrespectful of me to assume I am better at doing your thinking than you are at doing yourthinking. If I focus my mind on my business and trust you will do the same, the meeting of our minds has the potential to enhance both of us. Conversely, if every time we talk or spend time together you cross over in my head it is likely much of my energy will be spent, not in thinking and exploring with you, but in attempts to safeguard my head-territory.
One of my very favorite pieces of art. It’s from Gorky Park, Moscow. Street artist — 1992.
I am grateful to Mercury readers who inquire about my health following my bout with salmonella.
As I have written, it knocked me out.
Serendipitously, my sister was already scheduled to come to the USA from South Africa to attend my son’s wedding and Jenny has been more than able to assist me in my recovery.
My doctors inform it will take a while but assure me my “numbers” are “trending” in the right direction.
While it is not where I would like it to be, I am walking 5000 or more steps a day.
I have canceled my travel plans for the rest of 2025. I don’t like canceling arrangements with people who have relied on me for years to bring my academic portion to their family therapy programs.
My immediate goal is to rally all of my physical and emotional strength so I am strong enough to stand for long enough to perform my son’s wedding and hold onto my emotions while I do it. His walk down the aisle with 7 groomsmen (one being his brother) and me, and the entry of the 7 bridesmaids, then the bride, is sure to evoke powerful emotions for us all in the home church of his beautiful fiance in a city three hours from where we live.
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