Young competitor son
a quiet effigy, out-of-bounds in bright uniform, cleats and missing shin guards,
the one requirement left behind in haste
now unable to romp with the team he would soon discard,
like a punctured birthday balloon,
his forlorn stare shifting ever so slightly from the yells and cheers receding
to the river flowing southwest,
to barges floating bigger than any playground.
A few late winters later, the scrawny freshman, still finding his muddied stance in the gravel dust,
followed directives to hand over the ball,
or was it a goldfinch in disguise,
to postpone a miracle grip first discovered in the trampled green of our diminutive front yard.
When he finally trudged back outside, digging at the diamond-shaped boundary, after the plague suspended an entire season,
he would choose early June for a final step off the hill, the bag unslung forever,
a portal transfer to a more promising port,
with no more games called for darkness, disaster or misplaced protections.
Standing upright position, first-string,
he no longer leans into the crosswinds of commands,
his dreams analeptic, replacing lost echoes down dormitory lecture halls,
those generational memories that catch a frail father’s grand intentions.
Watching your child grow into their own person has to be one of life's hardest journeys. Such a shock to find them seeking things apart from our goals for them or having very different opinions from ours. It seems we have the expectation that our offspring will be like us: we will have a common ground and understand each other. Of course, this fallacy raises it's head early on and continues to subvert our plans over our lifetime and theirs. Parents feel like failures. Kids feel dejected, maybe controlled and unheard.
We have the best intentions. Want the best for them. Want to save them and protect them from hurt or harm or bad decisions. It is so painful on both sides!
When encouragement feels like a burden.
Prompting and reminders become enormous pressure.
Guidance just seems like control and trying to share wisdom and knowledge are more likely to feel like exercises in defeat.
Parenthood! No magic book or instructions. As hard as we try, somehow, both parties seem to suffer and feel a sort of helplessness and maybe, resentment or blame.
Over a lifetime, as our kids become adults, then parents of their own and often, our caretakers, the tides change. The understanding and empathy connect us again.
Such a frustrating and long process that no one escapes.
Reading your poem told me you are experiencing all of this. The tenderness and heartache you feel towards your son as he navigates life is palpable. You are, my dear friend in the worst of it. Teenage and young adult life are some of the toughest times for both sides. Keep loving them, doing what you can, what you think is best. Just letting them know you are there if and when they might need you.
They will. They'll come back when they start seeing you as a person and not just their parent.
You're doing the right thing. Don't give up on them and don't give up on you. 💕
Nice!