BARBARANNE KELLY|CONTRIBUTOR This weekend I helped my daughter peel potatoes. We were having company for dinner, and I’d asked Kate to make her roasted garlic mashed potatoes to go along with the main dish that was braising in the oven. As we stood side-by-side at the sink, she commented on the difference in how we wielded our peelers. “I always nick a knuckle when I hold it that way.” I smiled and nodded—regardless of how she holds the peeler, she ends up with a peeled potato. Her recipe differs from mine in other ways: she melts the butter in the microwave, I drop it straight into the hot potatoes; she whisks in chopped thyme from the garden, I settle for salt and pepper; she peels the garlic cloves before roasting them, I roast the bulb whole; her choices of dairy products are richer and more generous than my own; and the cayenne pepper was a surprise. When she was finished, she served up a side dish that could have taken center stage. Kate is the second of our five children, all of whom are grown and flown, four of whom are married, and two of whom are now parents. I’m not writing on the topic of parenting adult children because I’ve figured it out, but as many writers will attest, by this exercise I may learn a lesson or two. Even the terms empty nest and grown and flown are instructive. Our adult children are no longer hatchlings who need us to meet their every need for survival. Nor are they fledglings who need us to manage the larger responsibilities of their lives. They have spread their wings and flown from our nest of parental care into the lives God has ordained for them. I’ll just share the top three lessons on my growing list, because I’m still learning, and, well, there’s a word-limit—which I’ll probably exceed anyway...