Not long ago, my now-adult daughter called from New York to let me know about a medical scare she was facing.  She assured me that she was handling it, had the best doctor, and was confident about the outcome.  I could sense her concern, though, beneath her surface calm.  I wished I could do something, and was troubled by knowing that I couldn’t.

That event triggered a memory of an event that occurred more than two decades earlier.  It made me reflect on what we do as parents that affect how our children will deal with uncertainties and unknowns that lie ahead in their lives.  But it also reminded me that children have some innate “adult” powers that we haven’t fully recognized.

It happened one morning in early spring.  We were sitting at the airport, waiting for the plane to begin boarding.  My daughter was going fly alone.  It wasn’t the first time she had flown, but on this trip she would be unaccompanied, and would meet her mother in another city.  She was excited about it, but was also scared about going alone.

We sat side-by-side in the airport lounge, where we could look through the large windows at the baggage loading and refueling activity outside.  She began peppering me with unnerving questions — like why planes crashed, how frequently, and whether I knew that this one would be safe.  Oddly, though, each time she asked I thought I detected a faint, sly grin, followed by a quick sideways glance with her twinkling blue eyes.  I sensed that she was feeling something she couldn’t quite express, beyond her fears.  Maybe was looking to me to affirm whatever that was, if  only I could tune into it.

Then suddenly, it was boarding time.  We rose together, and she hugged me tightly.  “I’m still scared, Daddy,” she murmured quietly.  Quickly reviewing my parental options, I thought of something: Continue reading →