(Cue Schmaltz) The Best Gift

Last night, my husband said something I've been mulling over since: "If you're a parent, the best gift you can give your child is the gift of your own independence."

He was thinking of adult parents and near-adult children, the ones who are trying to leave the nest but to whom the parents are clinging in the guise of "being supportive."

In fact, we had been talking of my father, whose birthday would have been yesterday and who had given me the gift of his own independence.

At 90, my father was the kind of man that nurses and university administrators referred to as "cute." At 70, he was likely called a "funny little man" or "Mr. Peepers," but I didn't happen to hear it. Years after his classroom days were over, he wore suit jackets and hush puppies. In a group, he'd sit back observing before he shared an observation from left field. He was obsessive, if that is possible, about moderation and routine, and in general he made my recent adult life a lot easier than it could have been. Sure, I worried about him, all alone in that big house, but I knew that it was my choice to do so.

But last night, we weren't thinking only of my father. We talked of other parent/child and peer/peer relationships and the reasons why the clinger holds so tightly to the clingee.

Partly, it's habit: from the moment a child shows interest in standing, parents hover to keep the child from falling. It's a physical reaction that becomes a powerful metaphor. But there's something else at work.

It's fear, of course. While the clinger might be saying aloud, "I'm keeping you from failing," she actually means, "Without you to depend on me, what value do I have in this cold, harsh world?"

So, because this forum is a bully pulpit, I'll use it to toss out a challenge. This holiday season, give someone you love the best gift of all: your own independence.

The benefits are two-fold. Facing your fear--finding or renewing your own independent purpose in life--could be the grandest adventure you've ever had. Lord knows there's plenty for everyone to do these days.

And think about this: You may believe that your care has prevented your loved one from falling. But what if--what if?--without you hanging onto her, she flies?

Happy holidays, everyone.