My oldest son is 18 years old today. Yes, it's a time of celebration and Ben is certainly thrilled. He couldn't stop talking about all the ways his life is changed by this magic number. He can register and then vote. (Fox's O'Reilly and Glen Beck are helping to shape his political views.) He can sign contracts, work past 10p.m., check himself out of school, work at a gas station, get a tattoo, buy tobacco products and purchase lottery tickets. Oh, and once he gets his class CP driver's license he can be out after midnight. The preceding is a list provided by Ben to help us grasp just how much his life will be altered. He assured us that just because he can do any of these things doesn't mean he will do them. WHEW!! My hand immediately flew to my forehead,as I sighed with great relief.
So, now that we've determined what he can do the question becomes, what will he do? First we sat him down to have the talk; the "you still live under our roof, do you know what that means?" talk. It was during that conversation we learned that to him 18 means since he is now considered by the government to be an adult, we(parents) are no longer required to provide for him and can kick him out. Well, alrighty then. To Ben this just might cause him to abide by our rules because he fears the consequence of doing otherwise. To me it implies he has something motivating him to consider his choices more carefully. His realization struck me more as proof of his blossoming adulthood than any of the freedoms he now legally has.
This morning when I went to make sure my "adult" son had gotten out of bed, I realized that this very well could be the last birthday morning he gets out of his own bed here, in our home. He is a senior in high school and has plans to join the Marines and leave out soon after graduation. For all my blustering about looking forward to losing the teen angst and drama of the past few years, I've spent this morning boo-hooing over the "lasts" we're bound to go through in this season of our lives: last first day of school, last chances, last high school dances, last year of being a tax deduction.
I remember the first time I let him cross a street without me, he looked back to where I stood and said "See, I made it". The time is soon coming when he won't be able to look back and find me there watching. When Ben steps out into the world, he'll be doing it with the love and support of his parents who hope and pray that he will be a God loving, productive and responsible member of society. I look at my 6 foot hairy man of a son and can still see the little-bitty wrinkled newborn he once was. I guess it's okay to glance back as long as my eyes don't get stuck that way.
No comments:
Post a Comment