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It wasn’t until my kids were in college that I worried about their drinking habits.  Liquor was always available in our house, not as an attraction nor as a prohibition.  We poured a glass of wine each Friday night for our Shabbat meal and all were invited to drink no matter their age.  We rarely drank any kind of liquor any other night of the week.  The liquor cabinet was full and remained so during all the years my kids lived at home.

During their teen years, the kids’ friends would gather in our basement and often they would sleep over.  I never asked if they were bringing liquor with them.  My rule was that everyone had to drop their keys on my kitchen counter when arriving and get them back only after getting my permission to drive home.  Drugs were not allowed in my house.  No quaaludes, no marijuana, no dope.  No discussion about this. 

As a little girl, I remember being tempted by my parents’ liquor cabinet.  One day when no one was home, I took three open bottles of liquor and sat down for my first tasting of bourbon, scotch and vodka.  Why, I thought, would anyone want to drink this stuff?  Back went the bottles.  I never touched them again.

I was cleaning the basement one day, planning to put the house up for sale.  The kids had moved out and I didn’t need all that space anymore.  For the first time, I went all the way back into the crawlspace and, to my surprise, I found a dozen or so empty bottles of beer and wine.  I chuckled, remembering those teen overnights and wondering what else might have taken place in this basement.  What I was sure of is that no one drove home after drinking.  If these kids were pushing the limits, then they would have to sleep it off before facing me.

My college life began in a dry county.  We could not purchase nor bring liquor into our dorm room.  Each of the girls would take turns going to the next county and purchasing a bottle of wine for the girls on their floor.  Two or three bottles would have to suffice and we all gathered in the hallway and finished off what we had.  When it was my turn, I snuck in two bottles of Ripple, the wine of choice of those of us with limited funds.  I checked in at the dorm office feeling guilty and afraid that I would get caught.

Now it was my kids’ turn to navigate college life and college drinking.  Back home from college, the kids told stories of binge drinking, of fraternity hazing, and of the fateful porcelain goddess.  

“I taught you to drink responsibly or don’t drink at all,” I reminded my sons.  “And I taught you that having a drink at home in a safe environment was far better than having too much at the local pub and trusting the most sober one of you to drive home.”

When students were arrested and fraternities were kicked off campus, I knew that drinking students had become intolerably reckless.  I began to take more frequent trips to see my kids.  I planned dinners with my sons and their friends.  I wanted to be present as a caring parent with a message.  I would not go away.  I would always show up and remind them that privilege comes with responsibility.  The privilege of attending college comes with responsible behavior. 

I bit my lip and wiped my tears each time I would leave their campuses and return home.  What would happen, I hoped, would be a matter of good parenting, not just of good fate.

Susanne Katz is a divorce coach with Mt Vernon Counseling, coauthor of A Woman's Guide to Managing a Mid-Life Divorce, an arts and living columnist for Atlanta Jewish News.com.  She is also a regular on ShareWIK.com.

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