The Power of Example

When I was a kid, at least once a week my mom would make what she called "creamed tuna" for dinner. It is exactly what you're thinking: a can of tuna fish stirred into a thin white sauce and served over toast. It was probably a good way to stretch a can of tuna far enough to feed five kids.

I hated creamed tuna. I vowed that when I was an adult I would never, EVER, fix creamed tuna for my family. After almost 30 years of marriage, I've held true to that vow. There have been tuna casseroles, tuna sandwiches, and tuna salad. But no creamed tuna has ever turned up on our dinner table.

As adults, we often repeat the patterns of our parents no matter how committed we are to avoiding them. From our earliest infancy they become our template for life. And that can have much broader implications than we ever dream.

Recently I was sitting with some young adults who were participating in a Narcotics Anonymous meeting. As addicts, they shared their stories of how they became hooked on drugs or alcohol and the ensuing chaos of their lives.

They almost all began using as tweens living at home. One young man said his father grew marijuana at their home and had no problem sharing it with his son. He described his dad as, "a burned out hippie from the 70's so you know he's got a few brain cells gone." Eventually, the boy moved on to much harder drugs. Even as his son struggled for sobriety, the father could not see the harm in having his stash. No big deal.

Contrast that with the experience of a 20-something young woman in the group. As a young teen, her substance abuse was an occasional drink or pill at a party. But depression and series of drug using boyfriends took her down a road most of us can only imagine. She tried meth and was immediately hooked. She endured her boyfriend's beatings, sometimes even encouraging them, in order to get drugs. She frankly admitted she slept with anyone who could supply her drug needs. She began cutting herself. She was homeless and slept wherever she could find a place to crash - no matter how dirty or vile it may be.

At her lowest point, she said she woke up one morning and looked around. She told the group, "I said to myself, 'My parents taught me better than this. I know better than this.'" She walked out, checked herself into rehab, and has never gone back. Although they divorced when she was a child, this young woman said her parents had created good homes for her and made it a point to teach her right from wrong.

When we think our influence, our example, doesn't matter - it does. When we think our children have tuned us out for the zillionth time - they haven't. When we think our personal, private actions aren't that big a deal - they are.

We are the template for our children's lives. They may not do everything the way we did. But some of the most important decisions they make will be reflections of our own.

I think of these young adults and their daily battle for sobriety almost every day. And I say a silent prayer for them. I am a great believer in prayer. I learned it from my mother.