Posts tagged ‘Fatherhood’
Finding Your Way to 13
To My Handsome Son on Your Thirteenth Birthday,
We are driving home amid a dark, rainy evening and you are sound asleep in the backseat. Your sister is slumped on your shoulder and sharing your blanket, also sound asleep. Not even the noise of rush hour traffic or the quiet Dad music in the car can wake you because you are exhausted from days busy with school and a growing social life. It also doesn’t help that your body is getting bigger. This combination of changes can take a toll on a young man, who seems taller every time I pick him up from school or the mall or a friend’s house.
It’s November and you are fully engulfed in your second year of middle school. Today you are officially a teenager, equipped with a full pack of snark and attitude and unvarnished, naive opinions. This is hard for Dad. Gone is my little helper, the one who wanted to hold the flashlight, or carry the blankets to the living room camp spot, or share a bear face pancake at the diner. You no longer want to mow the lawn with your plastic mower and would rather play on the XBox instead of the swing set. Our conversations are less an exchange of ideas and more you telling me what you think on your way to the refrigerator.
Your final year of preteen life was full of the same antics as the previous years: video gaming with your friends, road trips, and baseball games. You played the final game of your Little League career near the start of Summer. I will miss seeing you laughing and goofing with friends on the diamond, the energy of a three-field community complex full of classmates and club teammates. The crown jewel of your season was a trip to Cooperstown, New York to play at the Cooperstown Dreams Park in a week-long tournament that featured teams from all around the country. I was so very proud of how you presented yourself. You were a source of encouragement for your teammates, and considerate toward opposing players and the field staff.
You are most confident on the field when you are standing at the shortstop position, barking out orders to the rest of the infield. I’m amazed at your poise when you are on the mound, too, winding up for a fastball amid the din of shouting parents and taunting opponents. I envy the opportunities you have at your age, particularly the ones where you get to travel to places around the country with your baseball team. I’m glad you have the chance to see some of the world before you are out and on your own. I hope you will remember these trips and make travel a regular part of your adult life.
Your peer group has more influence on you than I do these days so my best option is to model the behavior I’d like to see in you, and hope you find value. That doesn’t always work because the last thing a 13-year-old boy wants to do is behave like a 60-year-old man. It’s clear to me I need to stop trying to force you in directions you don’t want to go. That’s hard for a parent, to step back and let your children show you who they are. Because sometimes kids head in directions you don’t want them to go, much like when they suddenly turn away from you when learning to ride a bike.
And yet there are the elements of you that just do not change and I still relish them, for some reason. The uniform is the same: hoodie and sweats, no zippers or buttons, please. Busted shoes and a baseball hat. Your room is a perpetual mess of dirty clothes and baseball equipment, empty juice glasses and snack bags near the unmade bed. You love pizza and root beer, baseball and video games. You rarely drift from that pattern regardless of my encouragement.
What most eases my fear of you stepping into adolescence is seeing you with your sister; just a boy who loves her dearly, despite how irritating she can be. You don’t disrespect her, you tell her almost daily that you love her in that casual way, whether saying goodbye at the start of school or goodnight at the end of the day. I’m not so concerned about teenaged you when I see her slumped over in the backseat of the car, her head on your shoulder, and both of you asleep on another long car ride home. At your core you still remain a loving and kind, smart and funny boy.
Today we celebrate you, my bright and handsome son, for it is your birthday and you are thirteen years old. Thank you for being the loving goofball that inspires me to keep trying to be the best Dad I can. I want this year to be your greatest yet; a year full of adventure and achievement, and many moments of peace and joy with the family who loves you forever.
Happy Birthday to you, my Best Boy, my Duncan Philip.
Hop Dad 