Growing Pains -- The Teen Years

Written in May 2003 -- As my son, Phillip, graduates from the 8th grade and gets ready to move on to high school, I am keenly aware that this is one of life’s rites of passage and that the growing pains have only just begun.

I have to look up now to look into my son’s eyes. The same eyes that it seems just yesterday stared back at me in newborn wonder in the delivery room. When I held him in my arms for the first time, my heart was full of plans for him. Now his plans typically don’t include me. And the little boy who clung to my hand wherever we went now walks several steps ahead of me.

This was the little boy who while trapped for a time in a thunderstorm, nervously told his babysitter he wanted to “go home to give his mommy a kiss.” Our daily recitations of “I love you” are gone, and his generous hugs and kisses have now been replaced by near misses -- air kisses that never land.

Other treasured traditions have also fallen by the wayside. At the end of each busy day, I used to learn so much about his day, and about him, during our nightly ritual “pillow talks.” But those talks were replaced years ago by monosyllabic exchanges or hasty mumblings that I can barely decipher. I remember my own father telling me when I was a teenager that he couldn’t understand a word of what I was saying. Perhaps this is one of those paybacks my mother warned me about.

My son used to seek my guidance on just about everything, but now he rarely has any use for my advice. It seems that despite my 43 years of life experience, a college degree and more than two decades of working in corporations and an institution of higher education, I’m a moron. Life comes full circle and my teen years are definitely coming back to haunt me!

I know this is all a normal part of growing up and I try not to take it personally. But as my son is growing up, we’re growing apart, and it’s painful.

As I watch my son move on to the next phase of his life, I’m so proud of the young man he has become. His wit, his intelligence and his compassion never cease to amaze me. But while I know he has to start finding his own way in the world, it’s just as hard to let go now as it was when he took his first steps. But he knows that I’ll always be there to catch him if he falls.

And just as I did, I am hopeful he will find his way back home. It’s miraculous how much wiser our parents become as we get older. So perhaps one day soon my son will once again seek my advice -- and perhaps he’ll even take it. And hopefully he will once again look up to me as I now look up to him.

Post script: I'm happy to say that Phil, now 21, has grown up beautifully and he loves his mama so much. A semester abroad in Australia (July to November 2009) transformed his life ... he appreciates his blessings and his family more than ever. He blogged about his experiences, too. Visit Phil in Australia.