With a child safely in hand, the parent often attends the symphony for the first time; again, with a child in hand, a parent may venture into the world of Suzuki violin or the oboe. But once that child no longer needs to be shepherded to cultural venues, do parents venture forth on their own and re-visit these sites? Are parents able to move into the new world of "role model for the young adult" and, at the same time, delight in the cultural riches that their children have drawn them into? Are they able to make that psychic leap of faith and order a subscription to an evening concert series and discover that, at last, they are ready for classical music in a hundred new ways?

The Japanese mother does not physically separate from her child until he or she is well into "toddlerdom." With child strapped onto her back, Mother will don her winter coat with a neck hole and collar wide enough for two heads, and start out with this 40-pound load. The child will sleep with her, perhaps, until he or she is 4 or 5 years of age. She will spend every waking moment with her son or daughter, for there is virtually no childcare in Japanese society. The emotional separation actually will not happen until university days begin. At the national university admissions examinations, hotels offer packages for mothers and children to come to Tokyo or Kyoto, and the mothers stand by as their children consume hotel-provided energy snacks, study rooms and pencils. While in America the bonding is neither so long nor so intense, in both cultures, when the time comes that the child no longer needs to be sat with for homework or practice, or driven to after-school activities, there is the same sense of loss. Is life over? No. But how does one re-group and find the new paths that will take you into this new phase of life?