I’ve been thinking a lot about the parenting journey that we’ve been on. Mandy and I have spent the last 18 years seeking to love, protect and raise Adam, with the goal being that he would grow into an adult who would make an impact on the world. I was 30 years old when he was born. In that moment a new level of responsibility was thrust upon me that was unlike anything I had experienced before. My main role in life was now to be a dad. Most days I had no idea what I was doing, but I took the on the job training seriously.
In those early years the primary task was just keeping the kid alive. Was he eating? Sleeping? Was he healthy? I remember when he fell off our bed. He was so little. And we were so scared. But he was ok. God knew that parents would occasionally allow their babies to roll off beds, so he created them with a bit of bounce. We made our share of mistakes, but we loved this child, and our biggest longing was that we would be good parents to him.
As he grew up and became a very active and busy boy, that job of keeping him safe only grew. There was a new level of independence in him where he wanted to do things himself. Our role was even more critical. If left to his own devices things would not end up well.
Not only did we have to keep him from getting hurt, but we also had to shepherd his heart. How would we help him when he faced rejection by friends? Or disappointment when making a bad grade in school? We hated seeing his heart hurt. This was often more painful than seeing him physically hurt. As we know, those heart wounds can last way longer than the physical ones.
And we knew that we while we would be the ones tending to those wounds, we would also be the ones at times causing them.
Boyhood was sweet. We managed to keep him safe and healthy. We managed to guard his heart as much as we were able. And then he entered the teenage years. Things changed. Our role began to change. It was during these years that he would begin to transition from boy to man. We had a big role to play in helping that transition take place in a healthy way. We would need to give more freedom. We would have to let go more often, which was tough since there were so many opportunities for him to get hurt. And not just hurt like falling off the bed. The hurts were getting bigger.
I did my best in trying to be intentional about guiding him into manhood. We had somewhat weekly breakfasts. We read some books and memorized some Scripture together. More than anything, my goal was to create moments with him. Moments that would mark him and that he could look back on. More than anything I wanted to be present.
Around a year ago I knew that we were transitioning to a new phase of parenting, and this new phase would be very different from the previous ones. It was now time to begin preparing to launch him into the world. It was almost time to let him go. During the last year I have at times felt like that 30 year old new dad who felt helpless and who most days had no clue how to do the job.
I have spent the last 18 years trying to keep my kid safe. And now I’m meant to let him go! That is such a strange shift. Over the last year I’ve had friends ask me how I’m doing in preparing for this transition. The one word that’s most fit is the word “weird.” It’s going to be weird when he’s gone. It’s going to be weird when we leave him in his dorm tomorrow morning. It’s going to be weird when I don’t see him virtually every day of his life.
It’s going to be weird. And hard.
But this is the point we’ve come to.
Last year we watched a documentary on Netflix called Our Great National Parks. Barack Obama narrates it. I remember watching the episode about Monterey Bay. It features Northern Elephant Seals. The mama seal comes to shore to give birth to a pup. For the next month her only priority is to feed and protect her baby. But after a month she has to return to sea to feed herself. And she leaves the pup to fend for himself. And then we learn that she’s never going to return to him. You see the mama leaving and the pup crying. And now I’m crying. Dang you Barack Obama.
Apparently this is the way that God designed things. I’m just grateful that I’ve had 18 years rather than one month.
In some ways I’m ready. For the last year our son has been itching for more independence. That’s how he’s been wired. And it’s time for him to leave the house. He needs it. And we need it. A year or so ago Mandy showed me a video of Jerry Seinfeld on the Tonight Show. Jimmy Fallon asks him how things are going now that his oldest child is in college. Jerry said it’s kind of like having a baby alligator. It’s so cute. People come over to see the baby alligator, to feel its baby alligator teeth. But then some years go by, and the baby alligator becomes a big alligator, and at some point you say, “We’ve got to get this thing the hell out of here!”
Man, do I resonate with this. It’s time. It’s time to launch the kid into the world. It’s the right time. Adam craves independence because it’s time for him to take on more responsibility.
Adam is ready. He knows who he is. Though it’s weird and hard, I am able to let go in large part because I am confident that he is going to thrive in this next phase of his life.
I need to mention that we haven’t been on this journey by ourselves. We’ve had other parents to walk alongside. We’ve had grandparents and aunts and uncles helping us. There have been great teachers and mentors. Church communities and ministry leaders. We’ve had a community that we’re thankful for.
I don’t know what the drive home tomorrow will be like. I’ve never experienced this before. But I think we’re going to be ok.
