Growing pains

Watching my 16 year old go through the dance of life has been an enlightening experience.

Since I passed that stage so long ago it’s been relegated to the dim parts of my memory and the feelings that I had are largely forgotten. The only thing I remember clearly was having a lot more freedom than my sisters. I did have a serious girlfriend who eventually became my wife and the mother of my oldest son. Serious as in she was my first sexual experience. Serious as in we stayed together through high school and my first year in Germany until I returned to the states and we were married.

She played her games while I was gone and I played mine, but when it came time to be serious, she was the one who actually pushed the issue of marriage. I was perfectly willing to wait, but I think she was in a hurry to get on with her life.

Anyway, I am getting away from my point.

My second son is 16. He is experiencing the push for independence in a way that I wish I’d done.

Let me see if I can make this clear. By the time I was his age I’d already been having sex for about 8 months. I’d joined the army on the delayed enlistment program during the summer of 1982. I’d been ready to be an adult for quite some time, taking courses that weren’t typical for high school students. Things like how to manage money, how to buy a house, how to buy stocks and other things. I was ready to be an adult.

Or so I thought…

I won’t get into the mess I made of things. The people who know me best are aware of the fucked up choices I made.

But my son, who is the focus of this post, is ready to make the same jump. He is convinced that he can take care of himself. Now don’t misunderstand me, he knows that a job at Publix isn’t going to pay any major bills. He also knows that getting his ‘girlfriend’ pregnant would be tantamount to an Irwin Allen disaster film. But he is chomping at the bit to get on with his life. He wants to make his own rules. He wants to be able to drive himself to school, and to the movies. He wants to be able to get up in the morning to his own schedule and get ready the way he feels suits who he is.

I understand him. I also know that there is a lot he doesn’t know. It makes me wonder about myself as a parent and human being. Since I had a lot of the same desire to write my own destiny I can appreciate his impatience. My problem was, I was never as sure of myself as he seems to be. He knows that he is not perfect. He also knows that no one else will dictate his success or failure. In that vein he is light years ahead of where I was at his age. He is aware of the fact that in order to grow he has to ‘do him’ and not really allow anyone else into the decision making process that will move him away from that.

I find myself envying him. I wonder where I would be right now if I’d been as self aware as he is.

I’ve spent my life putting other people first. It was a choice and I am not really upset by it, but it doesn’t keep me from being aware that there were options that I missed.

My children are the primary reason for my continuing struggle to be a good dad and writer. I figure that if I am able to create the career I truly want then I can help them realize that there is much more to life than just graduating from school and going to work for someone else.

My second son, all of 16 and ½ is a constant reminder of the fact that no matter how bad I screw up, they will grow into the people they were meant to be. I know that I have some impact on how they turn out, but for the most part their adult lives will be whatever they choose. Just as my mother only had a minimal impact on my adult life. I can guide them only so far. The human imperative is to attempt to live life on your own terms. If you never stray from who you were when your parents were controlling your every move have you truly lived?

It’s just interesting to me when I look at how much of a difference there is between my 16 year old and me. And it’s even more interesting when I look at how similar we are…

Peace