Jack and Mia Have Grown Up and Now Have Teenagers of Their Own

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My 16-year-old, Ethan, is a more thoughtful kid than I ever was, and he’s definitely more cautious. Sometimes, I realize I haven’t taken enough time to appreciate his positive traits, often getting caught up in nagging him about the next item on his to-do list. But this summer, I’m truly enjoying watching the young man he’s blossoming into. Since I “forgot to plan his summer” (third kid, 20th summer = running out of ideas), he’s been creative with some odd jobs.

He helps one neighbor with their lawn and garden, walks another neighbor’s sick husband, and visits his grandmother daily—playing fetch with her dog and listening to her stories. He’s also the tech support for his other grandmother and the fishing buddy for his younger cousins and friends. Plus, he spends countless hours shooting hoops, determined to improve at the sport he loves. He’s kind, funny, and driven.

As he heads out to work, he asks me which weeds to pull, and I offer advice while reminding him about the potential hazards of yard work. Wear sunscreen, a hat, gloves, and bug spray. Watch out for poison ivy! This is 50. He walks away, barely paying attention, his earbuds in, phone in hand. Ah, to be 16.

I still remember the awful bout of poison ivy I had as a teen—the relentless itchiness and blistering reminders of youthful mischief. In a way, that rash symbolizes youth itself. But somehow, being 50 doesn’t feel itchy at all. My friends in their 60s and 70s, along with my parents approaching 80, assure me I’m still young. Yet, sometimes I feel like I’m starting to descend from the mountain.

Recently, Ethan sat at the foot of my bed, as he often does to say goodnight. He had just come back from a party and said, “A girl told me I looked good tonight. It felt weird.” There are still moments he shares with me, and I cherish them. He is good-looking—perhaps even someone’s “heaven.” He’s 16, and his journey is just beginning.

Maybe I should be content to have traveled this path before him, knowing a little about what lies ahead and sharing occasional advice about potential stumbles. I have no idea which songs will mark my kids’ teenage years; their soundtracks will be uniquely theirs. They are still in the phase of pounding beats and heart-wrenching ballads, of anthems and protests. The tunes that resonate with them now will someday play like my favorites do now on the oldies station.

At nearly 50, I still enjoy a catchy tune. Every now and then, I hear Mellencamp’s classic and find myself sighing. But my time in that soundtrack has ended. That’s alright. The other day, while listening to my iPod, a line from a Simon & Garfunkel song struck me: “Now the years are rolling by me. They’re rockin’ evenly. I am older than I once was and younger than I’ll be.”

It’s a beautiful reminder of life’s journey.

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Summary:

Ethan, the 16-year-old son of the author, exemplifies a thoughtful and hardworking teenager. He balances odd jobs and sports while navigating the complexities of adolescence. The author reflects on her own youth, contrasting it with her son’s experiences, and contemplates the passage of time and the music that accompanies it.