A Day in the Life of Chaos

My son Noah and his girlfriend Momay I am still adjusting to having my son visit me.  No, it’s not like you think, I mean sometimes I just want him to stay.  Being a visitor still seems odd and when he leaves I still feel his presence only to realize he is gone.  Life is scary that way.  Each time he visits I know that the circumstances of life will pull us further apart.  Girlfriends, studies and future plans.  The process is entirely natural but it is still hard.  I wonder if animals ever miss their young or are humans the only ones.  I know my dog seems to miss me when I am gone.  Perhaps the apes join us in our despondency, I have a feeling they might.  Still their youth never leave for college and seldom strike out to new continents where they will make their way.   My life is a blessing and a social curse.  A blessing in that it has taken me to different ends of the earth and allowed me to live there.  To constantly feel different stimulation and to expand my life in ne

There is something that happens inside a parent as their child grows and they realize they don’t need them as much anymore.    In truth it should be seen as success.  “Spread your wings little one… fly!”, is the refrain I thought would echo in my brain.  My son is growing older.  He is nearly 21 now.  Sure he needs my money to survive but aside from that the dependent ties of a child are becoming thinner.   As a parent I must shift from the role of ruler to advisor.  The wise council that may or may not be followed and honestly may or may not be wise.  Every parent has a different way of confronting this issue and some never do.  My grandfather never stoped calling my mother “Baby Sally.”  I think in her parents minds she was always a little girl and never transitioned to adulthood.  My wife’s parents seemed to have accepted her growth yet every time she returned home she was still their girl and they took her under their parental wings as they had always done.  Despite bei ng of

As a child grows older one of the most rapidly changing places in any house is their bedroom.  It is evolution times one hundred.  Toys that once seemed so appropriate are suddenly as out of place as an Avon Lady in coal mine.  While I understand the parent who went crazy and spent a fortune on the pirate ship bed, I pity them as one year merged into the next.  Suddenly the once magical bed no longer seemed quite appropriate as their child's legs surpassed it's length. After numerous requests, and having safely left his urges to have a room with the walls painted black in the rear view mirror, I recently succumbed to my sixteen year old's prostrations for an update.  It was an exercise in compromise.  Despite his urging I refused to allow him to forsake his bed frame and place his mattress on the floor.  To him it seemed "cool," to me it seemed representative of either homelessness or my college years.  I did however let him choose the paint and overall theme.