They Keep Growing Up
I'm a dad. If you ask me how many kids I have, I'll tell you either one or two, depending on my mood, how well we know each other, and if I feel like you and I have time for me to unpack my answer. Because if I tell you two, and ask me their ages, I'll say my firstborn died when he was 33 days old and my second-born is 11.
Obviously, there's some backstory there, and I'll get to it at some point – my firstborn's birthday comes up next month, and he'd be 19 years old if he were still with us. I always have plenty to say about him, and my experience as his father. But the “How many kids do you have?” question is always a weird one to answer.
Anyway, when my firstborn died, our counselor told us that we were in a strange place with our grief – most people grieve the memories of the person they lost, while we would be grieving all the expectations we would never fulfill as a family. And, yeah, that's pretty much it on the nose. For years, my wife and I would look at each other on what would be important milestones and sigh, wipe away a few tears, and grin and bear it, noting to each other that “this would be his first year of tee-ball,” or “he'd be in middle school,” or “we'd be teaching him to drive,” etc.
But when our second-born came along, that kind of talk got fewer and farther between. After all, now there actually were first years of tee-ball. Kindergarten, riding a bike, learning an instrument, all the traditional “first” type stuff.
Which brings us to tomorrow evening when my son will transition from his Cub Scout pack to a Scout Troop that he selected. Over the last several years I've watched my son grow from a kid who was just awed by the ceremonial aspects of Scouting into a tween who is natural leader full of boundless energy and enthusiasm. He picked his troop, not the one that our pack traditionally feeds into, and at least three other boys from his Arrow of Light den will be following him. Because, I sincerely believe, they trust his judgement. It's amazing to witness.
Tomorrow night, we parents throw the boys and girls who are “crossing over” a fun banquet. We'll honor their hard work, their promise to continue growing and learning, and their dedication to each other. They're still so little, but they're getting closer to adulthood every single day. It's awesome to watch, but having been on both side of the parenting divide – having one child who will never grow up, and one who just won't stop – I wish they'd slow down a bit. So I can savor it some more before the next chapter.