This Photo

Earlier in the year, I did a post about reading photographs. I always planned to get back to doing more if it, but you move on and you forget. Tonight I was flipping through photos and came across this one. I stop and stare at it every time it surfaces. It says so much to me as a mom, as a writer.

It is of course, a photo of my son, and there are some immediate things that strike me about it. Then, there are some things you won't see without my guidance. Things I see when I look a little deeper...

The photo was taken on a family vacation to St. Augustine. We traveled with another family we are friends with, both the kids and adults. The weather was uncharacteristically cold for the time of year. We went to the beach and ate lunch and walked, but it was too cold to wear swimsuits or go in the water. Jacob rolled up his jeans so he could walk on the shoreline without getting his pants wet.

Jacob has deep and beautiful blue eyes, so we often buy him shirts in the color he's wearing. The bright blue of his shirt, the faded blue jeans, and the color of the sky and water, all make this photo so blue. Even the metal railing he's leaning on takes on a blueish-gray hue.  He has my curls, and here his hair was grown out and a bit unruly. It has an I don't care kind of feel to it. He's looking at me so seriously. If you don't know him, you might interpret the look as a disgust about my attempt to take his photo. As his mom, I can tell you it's an unassuming vanity. He'll look my way, but he's not going to smile with approval. He's sort of posing.

Notice the way he is sitting. He appears to be relaxed. Both shoulders back, and his leg dropped. I'm not so sure how relaxed he was. As a high school freshman, approaching the end of the year (this was spring break), he was just starting to figure things out. He struggled all through middle school, and he was gaining some confidence as he found high school to be a place he felt more like himself. His face is fuller than it is today. He was definitely starting to look older, but he did not yet have the definition in his face, he does today. His skin hadn't cleared up yet, and his shoulders hadn't squared off.

And his hand. The way his hand is hanging forward, the way he's holding his fingers looks just like his dad. It's funny how you notice things like that, things no one else would see.

This photo represents a pivotal time for Jacob, at least in my eyes. It was the last time I'd see him more as a teenager than a young man. I'll cherish this photo forever. It's one of my favorites. It may say more about me as a mom, than it does about him as my son. That's ok.

Natural Consequences

I had a conversation with a co-worker today while we monitored the lunch room. We're about the same age, but her son is approaching two and mine, eighteen. She told me from everything she's seen and heard from me about my son, he seems like he's a really good kid. It was a conversation evolving from chit chat about some of our students. And I told her he is a good kid. She then asked me if he ever really got in trouble. By today's standards and on account of the things we deal with at our school, no. My son has never really gotten into deep trouble. One day I'll write about the closest he came to real "trouble." That's a story for another day.

As we talked, I explained our style of "discipline." Neither my husband nor I have ever hit our son. He's been grounded a couple of times. But generally, we believe in the idea of natural consequences. A simple example of the principle is, you stay up too late and you're too tired to get going in the morning. Or, you don't do your laundry and you won't have clean clothes to wear the next day. Some psychologists will say kids may be too young to process the natural consequences of their behavior, and it would be then up to the parent to help the child understand. It has worked out well for us. Our son is exceptionally smart, and does a lot better with a rational conversation than with a random unrelated punishment. Not to say he never makes mistakes, and has always made the best choices, but no consequence is better than the natural one.

If you've read my blogs before or know me personally, you know how I feel about grades and learning. They are often incongruent. One does not always correlate directly with the other. School has been a challenge of my son. Lucky for him, he doesn't struggle like some with testing. But he does struggle to acknowledge the importance of daily tasks and assignments. As a result, he has great test scores and less than stellar grades. All of this by choice. We don't pay him for A's and we don't ground him for D's. He's making a choice. And the natural consequence of that is he may have fewer colleges to choose from when a smaller stack of acceptance letters arrives. This is an example of how we choose to parent. No fighting over grades, no power trippy punishments. Don't get me wrong, I do my share of nagging and checking in, but ultimately it is his choice.

Another example is how he earns and spends money. At sixteen, as soon as he got his license, he also got a job. Unlike some other parents (I do not judge, I'm just demonstrating comparison.), we do not take his paycheck. In fact, we never even see it. He has his own bank account, and he has a responsibility to make an agreed upon contribution to his car insurance and pay for his own gas. He makes a payment to us monthly, either in installments when he gets a check every two weeks, or once per month. We're flexible with him as long as he gives us the money. We still pay for parental things like haircuts and lunch for school days. And when his hours are low for a pay period due to reasons beyond his control, we may help with a few extra bucks, but that's it. So if he gets paid, spends a bunch of money going out with his friends or on the latest computer component he just has to have, that's his prerogative. But if he depletes his bank account before he gets paid again, and asks for money for non-necessities, well the answer from us is usually no. You spend all your money before you make more, you're out of luck. It's a natural consequence.

We decided early on, or maybe it just happened without decision.  We haven't and will never micro-manage our son. He needs to learn life lessons by living- taking risks, figuring stuff out, and yes- making mistakes. Allowing him to do all of this while still under our roof allows us to help him process it all and learn with our guidance and protection.  We process but we don't punish and we don't fix. Some would say we're too hands off, that we're not showing him the way. I've been accused of all kinds of parental no-no's. I guess it's all a matter of what you value.

I value my son's ability to learn to act instinctively and intrinsically. I believe he is growing up to be extraordinarily independent. Problems don't scare him, they challenge him. I feel pretty confident that no matter what life throws at him, he'll figure it out. I'm certain of it, in fact.

He never allows me to take photos. I forced him today!

He Melts My Heart

When I started to make plans for this blog, my original idea was to document the last year my son would be home, turn 18, and graduate high school. I knew there would be a lot of memories I would want to preserve, and a  journey of endless reflections and emotions. I decided to go broader knowing I could encompass all of that and more. But, this micro memoir is just the type of thing I had in mind.
     Another summer day, I made my way downstairs leaving my teenage son behind, sleeping. I made a mental note to call him an hour before he needed to be at swim practice, as I heard him up late playing online games with his friends. Then I was out the door to work. An hour and a half later, I made the reminder phone call and woke him up. He insisted he had his alarm set and he'd make it to practice. I crossed my fingers and believed him. Then I went about my business at work. After finishing up a meeting, I meandered back to my office and checked my email and phone messages. It was almost noon and I had missed two calls from my son. Normally two failed attempts of him trying to reach me would make me nervous. But I quickly recalled having left him a text to call me later. I needed his help with something tech-related, and he is my in-house tech support. Nobody better, and he's not a dick about it. I called him back. "Hey mom, how are you?"
     "Hey! Good, how was practice?"
     "It was good, and I just left the other pool too." He had been hired with the city to be a lifeguard. Earlier in the week he completed the orientation and today he had to go by the pool to find out what his work schedule will be. "I'm going to have a full forty hour workweek!" He was excited because this job pays three dollars more per hour than his other job. Now he will have the benefit of both.
     "That's terrific! Working outside in the sun all day sure will affect your sleep schedule." He knew that was a lighthearted jab, and laughed as he told me he probably won't be able stay up late anymore.
     "Are you busy? I'm close to you and I was thinking of getting lunch. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I don't think he could ever know how delighted I was by his offer. I explained I had a salad with me and he could grab himself some lunch and come eat with me at my office if he wanted to.
     "You can park around back and come in the door by my office, so you don't have to walk through on parade." He's a chick magnet at my school. All the girls ogle him and sneak out to come by my office and check him out when he's in the building. His visits are usually followed by an afternoon of the girls telling me how cute he is and asking me all kinds of questions about him. Admittedly, I like it. I'm very proud of him and of course I think he's gorgeous. Not biased at all. But he gets embarrassed by the attention, so I sneak him in the back.
     And he came. He didn't bring lunch so I didn't eat mine. We just talked for almost an hour. about random stuff. Lucky for me, it was quiet and no one called for me or pulled me away for anything. He ate a couple of candies out of the bowl on my desk, talked about how comfortable the wheely chair in my office was, and we chatted. It was the absolute highlight of my day. And when I walked him out back to his truck he said,
     "See you tonight. Love you."
     "I love you too kiddo. See you when I get home." He drove off and I went back to work.  And for the rest of the afternoon I felt wonderful. Late in the afternoon I texted him. "Thanks for coming to visit me today." And he responded,
     "It was my pleasure." And my heart melted, because the pleasure was all mine.

Reunion

We talked about it for months. He had been in contact with her friend's daughter at school. The timing just seemed right because we were doing lifeguard training at the pool right up the road. He was eighteen now. He got her address from the girl at school, and we planned it on our way to training. When training was over we put on our sweats, and then in the dark of the evening, we drove slowly thorough the neighborhood looking for the house number. He pulled in the driveway, and my heart was beating fast. I knew he was nervous. We showed up unannounced, and he hadn't seen his mother in more than five years. They hadn't talked much since then either. It was complicated. Really complicated. He rang the doorbell and I stood back and watched. It was a lot like those talk show reunion shows, when they arrange for long lost relatives to meet for a surprise reunion on the show. A man we didn't recognize opened the door. He looked to the side back toward the inside of the house. "Linda," he called out. "I think you better come here." His mom came to the door, and my throat filled up with the world's biggest lump. She pulled her hands over her mouth with a gasp like she couldn't believe her eyes. Then she opened them wide and pulled him into an embrace. She held him so tight it seemed she wouldn't let go. From my vantage point I couldn't see his face, only hers. And the tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked up to the sky and barely breathed out the words, "I've been praying for this day to come." Once again her first born son was back in her arms.

Photo retrieved from lifewithoutpink

Brokenheartsville

Yesterday I got to reminisce about my wedding day and marrying the love of my life. It was one of my most perfect days. Today, I'm feeling sad about a not so perfect day. My son had his heart broken today, for the first time (hopefully the last). He's had other girlfriends, but this one was different. It was his first high school sweetheart. He even went to homecoming with her. If you knew him well, you'd know that was a big deal. He's not into the school dance thing, not even a little. But this year he agreed to go. We went shopping, they coordinated, and the photos were just adorable.

This morning I got to work, settled in my office, and heard a text alert on my phone. [She] broke up with me. A simple one sentence text. I knew this was going to get painful. He really liked her. My heart sunk- not because she was perfect or because I though they'd get married (he's only 17), but because he's my son. When his heart hurts, so does mine. I closed my eyes and opened them again. I sent him a text back. I am so sorry. Did she say why? Are you okay?

His response made me want to cry. My heart started to race, it was like someone was breaking up with me. Everyone asks if you're okay when you get broken up with. Everyone always says they're okay. They're all lying. My poor baby. I wanted to pull him close and tell him it was okay, tell him there would be other girls. But I knew that was not what he needed to hear. Instead I validated his feelings as best I could...

I know. What you're saying is 100% true. Is there anything I can do for you? He's so sensitive and I wanted him to know it was okay to feel what he was feeling. I knew if he was home he'd be crying. He's never been afraid to cry, his dad taught him by example that men have feelings too and it's okay to feel. But he was at school. No way he was going to let out the tears. I wanted to tell him to go home, but I knew it wouldn't solve anything. Besides, he had a final to take (I'm sure that went well- eek). Did she give you a reason? Any kind of explanation? I wanted to make sure she didn't rip his guts out. To tell you the truth, I was impressed she waited to talk to him at school rather than just sending it in a text message like so many cowards do these days.

All she said was she she felt like her feelings weren't as strong as mine. There's nothing you can do. There's nothing I can do. She is two years younger than him. He is (was) her first boyfriend. I tried to explain to him she might not be ready for a serious relationship. I was thinking maybe her parents thought it was getting too serious. Either way, my son is a sensitive and pretty intense person. Whether it's a girl or friends, he's loyal and all in. He's caring and thoughtful and maybe it was too much for her. I have nothing bad to say about her. She's a sweet girl, but maybe not quite mature enough to handle the kind of relationship my son had to offer. I'm just glad she handled it maturely.

I talked it over with a friend, a colleague who is a counselor. She immediately responded with a sad and caring expression. She has a daughter the same age, and we often exchange stories and share parenting advice. She asked me if I had ever had my heart broken. I was taken back, because I had never given it any thought. But I realized I never had. I had a couple of teenage crushes that were never reciprocated. But that's not the same. I met my husband when we were teenagers and I've been with him since. My friend reminded me, the primary example my son has of a relationship is his parents who met young, fell in love, got married, and happily spent their lives together. Of course he's going to be intense about relationships, he has a beautiful example of what one should be. Surely I could sympathize with my son, and hurt for him in a way only a mom can, but I really don't know how he feels. The last text I sent was I am sorry. I know there is nothing I can say to make you feel better. But I can promise you this, the hurt will go away. I love you.

He came home after school and went to sleep. He was sleeping when I got home from work, and we have't talked since our text exchange this morning. He's still sleeping. I guess I feel the need to give him a hug from mom more than he needs it right now. This girl doesn't know what she just gave up. Really. Another girl will come up right behind her, and boy will she be grateful the last one wasn't ready for him. My boy is just like his dad, and whoever she is, she'll be one lucky girl.

Mother and Child

This story is based on a very similar experience I had recently. I was retelling my experience to a friend at work who said to me, "That would make a really great story. The same feelings a generation apart. A mom and a child and a mom and a child." I got to thinking about it on my way home from work, and my mind went to the Hebrew phrase  לדוֹר ודוֹר (read: l'dor va'dor), which means "from generation to generation." Usually the phrase is used to mean the passing down of culture and tradition from generation to generation (such as the teachings of the Torah), but somehow this experience brought the phrase to mind, especially when my friend mentioned the two women experiencing the same kinds of feelings toward the opposite generation. 

Mother and Child

They waited in line at the TSA security check, swapping day to day small talk with glances at his smart watch. Boarding was supposed to start in 20 minutes, and they were only a little concerned he wouldn't make it in time. The line was long, but continued to advance steadily. He was giddy with excitement; she had a different kind of butterflies in her stomach. He was 17-years-old, intelligent, mature, undoubtedly able to handle himself. But in her eyes he'd always be her baby. And her baby was getting on a plane to travel over 2,000 miles away from home. Alone. With a stop-over where he'd have to change planes. Alone. It's not that he had never flown alone before. It just seemed the closer he got to leaving for good, the more emotional she got about saying goodbye and watching him go.

Even with a last minute bathroom stop, they reached the gate in plenty of time. He plugged in his phone for a final charge and she ran to buy him a snack. Feeding your children is just as much about comforting yourself as it is your children. Besides, it distracted her from the waiting. The line at Burger King was backed up, so instead of a burger and fries, she settled for a can of Pringles, a Barq's Root Beer, and a pack of gum at the News Stand. She wondered if she picked out the right thing, and thought about how she used to know what all his favorites were. Not so much anymore. Except for the root beer. He still loved root beer. And at least with that she couldn't go wrong. By the time she returned boarding was underway and they listened closely for his seating group. She was thinking about whether he would hug her goodbye, or just say "See ya," like he did when he left the house to go to work or meet up with a friend. Her heartbeat increased, and she felt a lump in her throat as they approached the flight attendant taking boarding passes. She decided she couldn't allow him to go without a hug, so she just asked,

"Can I have a hug before you go?" Her voice was shaky and her eyes glassy.

"Can you have a hug? Yeah, I guess." And he hugged her tight.

"Be alert and aware while you travel. Have a great time. I love you."

"I love you too."

And he walked into the jetway and never even turned around. But that was okay, because she didn't want him to see her tears. She watched until he was out of her sight and she sat down by the window, waiting for the plane to pull out. She noticed off to the side behind her, another woman who seemed several years older than her, with a similar look on her face. She was staring out the window as well. Within a few minutes the plane pulled out slowly, and she felt as though it was tethered to her heart. She stood up and reluctantly turned away to walk back to the exit. The other woman stood as well. They noticed each other but didn't speak. They both slowly walked the long corridor back toward the exit, watching the plane out the window, moving slowly in the same direction. And then it stopped. And both women stopped. They looked out the window and then at each other.

Finally the younger woman said, "Do you have kids on the plane too?" With a tentative smile the other woman responded.

"Actually, my 87-year-old mother is on the plane. It's her first time ever on a plane and she's flying alone." She turned and looked nervously out the window.

"Wow. My son is on the plane. It's not his first time flying, but I can't help it. It's more me than him." They smiled at each other again and the plane started moving. "Well, there they go."

"There they go." Their eyes met again through the tears.

"Now we just hold our breath for a couple of hours." They laughed again and continued on their own paths, neither one of them taking their eyes off the plane just outside the window taxiing along until it moved out of sight.