Dear Annie: In response to all the working mothers who are weighed down by guilt, I’d like to share my experience.
I am 75 years old, and when I was growing up, my mother worked from 5 p.m. to 11 p.m. I usually came home from school around 3:30 or 4, and my memories of that time are nothing but warm.
Before leaving for work, my mother made dinner for my father to heat up later. She ate her own dinner at 4, and I would sit at the table with her and tell her about my day. She always gave me one bite from her plate while we talked, and somehow that small ritual has stayed with me all these years.
On her days off, she made time just for me. We colored together, read books or found something simple to do side by side.
I never remember feeling neglected because my mother worked. I remember feeling loved.
As you said, it really is about the quality of the time we give our children, not simply the quantity.
— Grateful Daughter
Dear Grateful Daughter: Thank you for writing in and sharing your perspective. Your story is a good reminder that children often remember the quality of the time spent together more than the amount of it.
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Dear Annie: My father was a very successful salesman who always dressed impeccably for work, client meetings and the golf course. But the minute he came home, he changed into what made him comfortable: old pants and worn T-shirts.
When my sister was about 12, she told our mother that she was embarrassed to bring friends over because of the way Dad dressed at home.
My mother gave her an answer I have never forgotten: “Those who care don’t matter, and those who matter don’t care.”
Looking back, I realize how much wisdom there was in that simple response. My father worked hard, provided for his family and was perfectly comfortable being himself in his own home.
I hope your readers who worry too much about appearances might take something from that.
— Proud of My Father
Dear Proud: Thank you for writing in and sharing your mother’s wisdom. She had it exactly right. The people worth keeping around are usually far more interested in who you are than what you’re wearing.
Your father knew when to dress for success and when to dress for the sofa. There’s something to be said for being comfortable in your own clothes and your own skin.