Teenage Angst Awaits

My nine year old son is still as innocent and loving as he was when he first starting walking and talking, but as each day passes I can see the affect of his approaching teenage years and its scary to say the least.

If he turns out to have the same independent DNA that I had when I was a teenager, I need to enjoy each and every day that his loving ways continue and hope that his metamorphosis stays in abeyance as long as possible.

Can it last?

Is it inevitable?

Eating lunch together yesterday at Friendly’s, we were sitting next to a mother and a son who were debating the importance of his finishing high school.

Listening to his irrational arguments, his misguided priorities and the love in his mother’s voice, which obviously grated on him like a rusty cheese grater, I was taken back to my own teenage years when I’m sure that I gave my own loving parents the same heartache and disappointment.

To my surprise, Alex leaned over to me and whispered, “That’ll probably be me in a few years”, as if he knew that his time to test his parents’ love and patience would soon be at hand.

Alex could tell that this young man was nuts, yet inevitably he’ll fall prey to the same disease I’m sure. The question is simply to what degree?

Thank God that my parents and I survived that turbulent time. 

My parents had my three sisters to contend with as well.

Through their love and unfailing determination to see us through, we all managed to come out the other end of adolescence a little battered, but no worse for the wear.

I can only hope to do as well.

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