Children

It is never easy watching your kids go through challenging times where you know they have to figure it out themselves.

You can offer support, guidance and someone to speak with but you can’t take on the monsters for them or they’ll never figure out how to slay dragons on their own.

Got one of those situations going on now, but I hadn’t realized how far it had advanced until we had a certain conversation today.

Made for some heartache and pain but also some pride in seeing how much they have grown and how mature their response is.

Afterwards, I was asked what I want to do and I said I could go kick the asses of those responsible for this and I could.

But that would require ignoring my own advice and gut. Can’t slay the dragon for them.

So now I have to sit, watch and wait.

Dammit.

Oh Shmata Queen, the stories you and I could tell and still do.

Been thinking about the decades and what goes into it all and what doesn’t. Had more than a few people ask for clarification and more than once refused to say much of anything.

Cue music:

What Life Will We Lead

Multiple conversations with teenagers about their futures and their dreams remind me a bit about those we used to have.

Also gets me thinking about when we refocus on ourselves and what comes next. The kids still require our guidance and help, but not like they used to.

Not even close.

That is ok. If we did a good job we have made them pretty damn self-sufficient and they don’t need us like they used to.

It is bittersweet isn’t it, this sense of wanting to be needed but not wanting it. This feeling that we have to keep pushing and yet don’t want to.

And then this question about what do with ourselves and the additional time we can see coming is hard and yet exciting in its own way, now isn’t it.

The boy shares a story with me and then wanders back into his cave.

It is dark inside and there are no torches nor candles that can be used to light a path but I press on, calling out to him.

He doesn’t answer so I start talking and tell him I know he is listening.

The darkness is blacker than night and I am consistently shocked by how it seems to eat stars and anything that might shine.

“I will go into the depths of hell and I will find you.”

“Stay out, you can’t do anything.”

He is right about some of it, I can’t do nearly enough but he forgets who he is talking to.

Once upon a time I was his hero but that is not why I am doing this. It is only significant to me because if I can get him to remember that time and believe I can pull him back out.

Or so I have convinced myself though I really don’t know if it is true. But I don’t know how to do anything other than try and so I push ahead.

Into the depths of hell, hoping I figure it out as I go.

A thousand years ago when I spent the summer of ’85 wandering through Israel there was a pizza place in Jerusalem that all the anglos would hit.

A place you would go because of the bulletin board that contained countless notes and messages from friends and relatives.

It was our first social network, an early Facebook that I first blogged about in 2007.  Every month the post Who Remembers Ritchie’s Pizza gets a little traffic because of the good times and memories tied into it.

Times

My kids really don’t appreciate how different things were and how much harder it could be to physically connect with people if you were meeting somewhere.

You couldn’t just show up at the mall and say you’ll call each other when you get there. You had to make a plan or risk never connecting.

There is a certain convenience in carrying supercomputers in our pockets that we can use to connect with others.

But sometimes I miss what was because you used the phone for conversation. You made a point to really talk or at least in theory intended to.

Now you see groups of teens sitting near each other but often their heads are bent over a tiny screen and you wonder what would happen if they had no phones and had to actually talk.

Today a teenager succeeded at something they were very uncertain about and his father got to look at him and say “I told you so.”

Not in a nagging or negative sort of way, but supportive, reassuring and warm.

Hopefully it was heard, understood and absorbed as such.

Time will tell.

We all have our paths.

Victory comes in different ways and we have to be open and aware or sometimes we don’t notice.