On January 18th our son, David, turned 13. It was a milestone marked by a party with friends while two anxious parents patiently bided our time upstairs. To our credit, I think, we interrupted only once to remind 8 teenage boys that sometimes parents really do still know best.
It was marked the next day by a gathering with family—grandparents, aunt, and cousins. And, of course, more gifts. The celebration continued the next morning as Mom and Dad and sister gave gifts on the birthday morning.
I want to say that as parent I survived the weekend. But looking back it wasn’t’ all that bad. There is a sense that reaching 13 is rite of passage. At 13 you no longer qualify for the kids menu at restaurants or discounts at amusement parks. You are considered a teenager, not a child. Though for me sometimes it’s still hard to make that distinction. Ah, but the reality is sinking in—I am the father of a teenager. The challenges ahead for both my teenager and his parents seem staggering at times. But with grace, patience, understanding, and perhaps time I feel confident we will successfully navigate these teenage waters.
13 years seems like a long time on one hand. But on the other hand it seems it was only yesterday. My mind has been flooded with memories of that day thirteen years ago when David was born—seeing him for the first time, feeling his face against mine, holding him gently against my chest, walking into our home for the first time with our new bundle of joy.
I have developed a new mantra for my role as father. Being a parent is a both a gift and a grand adventure and I am intent on experiencing that adventure to its fullest. So far that adventure has been all I hoped it would be and more.
Tommy
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