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When I was 16, a young Jehovah's Witness knocked on our door and received the shock of his life. As he opened his mouth to tell us about the "wonderful news from the bible," my father opened the door in all his nude glory, and the words melted away. My dad didn't believe in getting dressed on weekends if he didn't have to. Dad repeated himself and, as the man squirmed and sputtered in his black suit that Sunday afternoon, I realized that I would be a parent much like my naked patriarch, smiling to himself in the sun-warmed doorway.

Why, you ask, would such a bizarre (and potentially damaging) memory inspire such sentiments in me? Perhaps it's the knowledge that my parents were stalwart in their insistence that I be true to myself and live my life as a free spirit. They set the example and tried their best to avoid hypocrisy, at least as far as this subject was concerned.

My mom once told me that they knew they wanted to raise me to be a free spirit. It wasn't until later that I taught them what that meant. I was sometimes unruly, stubborn and difficult. I insisted on questioning authority and finding my own way in life. Hard as it was for them to stick to their guns, they punished me when I was out of control, but let me have creative control of my life. I dressed as I wished, listened to the music I wanted to, and fell in with the crowd of friends I grew to associate with the best of my high school memories. My father's nude display in my teen years reinforced this ideal of being true to myself. I've never forgotten it.

Knowing that my parents were 100% behind me, no matter where my life lead me, gave me the room to grow and explore myself inside and out. I went on to travel to other countries where neither of my parents had ever been and live in another state. I changed religions, political affiliations and life philosophies. I went out into the world and earned a higher degree than anyone in my family had in three generations. I fell in love with three wrong men and then my future husband. I bought a house and had a child.

Not everything I did was interesting and extraordinary. Some would say that none of the things I did were. I am unique among my peers, however, in that my parents were behind me every step of the way. They were confident enough in the way they raised me and the knowledge they gave me to trust my choices. My mother once told me, "The last gift a mother gives her child is wings, so they can fly off to a life of their own."

It's important to me that my child receive much of the same home education I did. If you have to share a dessert with someone, one of you cuts it while the other chooses the first piece. If you don't like what I made for dinner, stay out of the fridge...but there's always a bowl of fruit on the table. Staying up late and watching television on the foot of mom's bed with her is important bonding time. The whole family eats dinner together most of the week with the television off so that we know what's going on in each other's lives. Don't drive drunk...call me to come pick you up and there will be no further discussion or punishment. Spending time together at the park is a vital part of childhood. Always kiss and hug good-bye, because you never know if that's the last time you'll see that person. It's better to wake up exhausted and loving one another than to go to bed angry. Friends come and go, but family is forever.

As I look at my own son, I know that I won't do everything my parents did. They were human, after all, and not perfect. Despite that, I know I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if I measure up to the parenting standard set by my own mom and dad.

Learn more about this author, Sarah Grau.
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