We are exactly 301 days away from our baby’s 18th birthday (yes, I checked). He’s in the throes of his junior year in high school and all the demands and drama that lot in life brings with it. He’s somehow managing to continue to grow, already taller than everyone else in the family…on both sides. No longer am I able to rock him to sleep nor am I needed to scare away the monsters from under his bed.
For all intents and purposes, he’s an adult. A grown-a** man. And I’d be lying if that doesn’t scare the bejeezus out of me. I see him asserting his world view and tackling the tough issues. I hear him sharing his hopes and dreams and goals. I watch him struggling to find his place in this big, scary world. I feel him pulling away and then running back for reassurance and protection. He walks that tight rope between responsible and carefree, between yearning for our approval and not caring what we think. He believes he’s ready. I’m certain I’m not. It’s inevitable and therefore, completely out of my control. Not my favorite place to be.
The boy has been a fighter from the day he was born! Not a fighter in the violent sense (he’s truly a gentle giant), but he’s a warrior born with a gift for never giving up and taking life’s bumps as they come. On the day he arrived, we discovered a previously undetected cleft palate. This diagnosis immediately brought forth a team of specialists and by the time he was 3 weeks old, we had a dedicated ENT, speech pathologist, geneticist, craniofacial surgeon, and pediatric dentist all working with our pediatrician to create a plan. We were blessed…and overwhelmed. We didn’t know what the future would hold, but we were determined to make sure he not only survived, but thrived.
And so he did. He faced many more obstacles, multiple surgeries, setbacks, and triumphs. As a family, we committed to working through them together. He knew he was never alone, but we also gave him the room to test his will and individuality separate from us.
And so he has. Fiercely independent with a self-assurance borne from his battle scars, he faces each day with an enviable understanding of what is truly important. His perceptions don’t always align with ours (or the majority), but he is learning to defend his convictions and in doing so, he’s building the foundation for the rest of his life. He is comfortable in his own skin and confident in his decision-making skills; finding his own way on his own terms.
And so he will. Despite all of our parenting nuggets of wisdom and the positive examples we try to set, the day is coming far too quickly, when he will be navigating the ever-changing, ever-challenging waters of adulthood with a map of his own design. As parents, our role will shift from doing to observing; from demanding to suggesting; from controlling to letting go.
And so we will. The tears well up at the mere thought, but life has a way of moving forward in spite of our loudest and most heart-felt objections. We’ll continue to support and encourage and accept and love. We’ll cheer on our hero and be no less proud when his cape gets tangled and the world closes in. We’ll face this next step as we have all the others…together. And with God’s grace and mercy, we’ll take each day as it comes, grateful for the opportunity to make more lasting memories along the way.