My role as a parent changes constantly. We assume that will be the case when our children are born. But I’m not sure the concept sinks in until those changes are upon us and we become cognizant of them. So we travel along this parenting journey not always seeing what lies just around the bend ahead, not always noticing that little dip in the road, and not prepared to avoid the hole in the road before us. We are travelers nonetheless and we enjoy this parenting journey, even on the difficult days. Along the journey change most certainly comes and typically requires something of us as parents. Sometimes that change is obvious and requires significant adjustments on our part. At other times that change is subtle and not so demanding.
This week I experienced some of the subtle changes of this parenting journey. I decided to give my son some of the responsibility for mowing our yard. A simple change so it seems. But to me, yielding to our thirteen-year-old the control of my Cub Cadet, with the capacity to run over and shred the small trees and blackberries in our yard, was a change I had missed on the horizon of my parenting journey. His mother encouraged the opportunity. Mother’s always have a hand in this father/son plot and tug-of-war that I have yet to fully comprehend and appreciate.
Since I was pressed for time and the yard needed to be mowed and trimmed before the rains came, I surrendered the driver’s seat. I made a few rounds to mark out the boundaries. Our thirteen-year-old, who it seems only yesterday wasn’t heavy enough to hold the seat down so the tractor didn’t automatically shut off, assumed the controls. After learning what buttons did what and which pedal was forward and which was backward, off he was. He insisted, thank God, that I walk along beside him at first. I patiently—thank God for patience—gave directions. After it appeared he had this mowing thing down, I preceded to my task of trimming.
With an ever watchful eye—knowing his mother would want to know that I was keeping a close watch on her baby boy taking on such a dangerous task and anticipating that I might happen to witness the shredding of my blackberry vines—I kept vigil.
It was difficult not to point out that some of the corners were turned to close and as a result some of the grass was not cut. Obviously a more experienced hand—his father’s specifically—would not have made such a miscue. I gently pointed it out and suggested how he could avoid it. When I finished trimming I fought the urge to say, “Let me finish.” “It will be quicker if I do it,” was my reasoning. But I knew his mother was watching and deep down I knew he had to learn somehow. So I watched and pointed with my walking stick. I had to have control on some level, right?!!
At one point he came to me and said, “Hey, Dad!! I think I just ran over the little pine tree!!” The very pine tree I had trimmed around, pointed out to him, and even put a large stake beside so he could see it. “Yeah, Dad, that pine tree.” I took a deep breath. It wasn’t going to make it anyway. In case you’re wondering, the pine tree survived.
Father and son finally finished the task he needed to learn and the change I needed to navigate. He parked the tractor and shut it off and we walked inside.
I don’t remember how old I was when my dad taught me how to mow the yard. I do remember that there were paths of grass that I missed, small trees I cut down, and times I failed to put the oil plug back in after checking the oil. I remember the time I backed the lawn mower over my grandfathers fence and the time I got in stuck in a ditch, the very ditch my dad had pointed out to me, the very ditch he had told me not to get too close to—that ditch. I remember that it was my mom who came to the rescue that time.
All this reminds me, that for ages, parents have been successfully navigating the changing currents of this parenting journey. There will be more changes; some subtle and some not so subtle. That change is a sign of growth both for son and for dad. Thanks be to God!
Tommy
No comments:
Post a Comment