Nothing prepared me for the metamorphosis that has begun in my oldest son. He’s 13 and growing constantly. Deepening voice, arms and legs that seem to not quite belong to him. He now stands a head taller than me. He’s trying on grownup ideas. Watching us closely and questioning. Detecting any hints of hypocrisy in our actions, inconsistences in the things we’ve taught him over the years.
Some delightful surprises are the conversations we’re having about life: what it means to be a man, to be a protector and provider for a family. How to spend money. How to choose a career path. And a new phase of maturity, a desire to do the right thing, even if the practice isn’t quite perfect.
If I could have glimpsed this lanky capable son of mine back when he was still a 7 yr old sprite, how much patience I would have summoned, knowing what laid in store for him!
Autumn's Writing 