Letter from a Concerned Parent

I wish I knew what was going on inside of your head, son. Sometimes I look at you, at the things you do and say, and I just don't know where they came from. It's like at some point you became someone else's kid. Maybe you have a different set of parents on the other side of the town.

As a parent you always suspect that one day this will happen. After all, I was a kid once myself, no matter how baffling that idea is to you, and I remember breaking away from my parents in the same manner. And it's not that I don't know what causes such a thing to happen, it's just that there are so many things that DO cause it that I can't pinpoint what's happened between us in particular.

Modern life can be so unfair sometimes. You and I, we're only given so much time together before you're going to school and participating in other activities and hanging out with your friends. In comparison, we see each other only occasionally. There are huge chunks of the day where I don't know what's happening to you, what you're observing, and what you're concluding from those observations. You are experiencing so many wonderful things, I'm sure, and probably a lot of setbacks. Do you know yet that this is what everyone goes through, or do you think you're being singled out? These are the kinds of things I wonder when you come home from school withdrawn and quiet. Then you go up to your room and play video games (we can hear it from downstairs, you know) and it's like you're determined to live life inside your head.

Sometimes I see such cruelty in your face and in your words that it shocks me. I didn't teach this to you. These are not ideas I ever expected a child of mine to favor, that in fact we actively avoided, so how have they become such an absolute in your life?

Sometimes you do the oddest things and I can't tell if you understand the world around you at all. There have been a lot of times when I've considered giving in and seeking professional help for you. But you always bounce back right before I do, which just confuses me further.

And sometimes you explode with delight at something, really come alive, and I feel so proud of you. You're the sharpest, cleverest one in the room whenever that happens, and I imagine you one day finding the cure for AIDS or figuring out time travel or ending poverty: something suitably brilliant from our suitably brilliant boy.

I wish someone could provide me with a list of what has influenced you the most in your life. What events have shaped your thinking, but no one ever gets that, not even for themselves. The best I can hope is that one day you'll be ready to open up to us. That one day you'll throw open the doors to your head and invite everyone in. Not yet, though, you're still setting up and everything has to be just perfect.

I can certainly understand that feeling but I hope you don't wait too long. Time moves on whether we're ready or not, and you'll be an adult soon.

Remember, always remember, that your parents love you no matter what. You are our greatest creation. And hopefully someday you'll create something similiar and be able to feel the truly unique and overwhelmingly powerful love that a parent has for their child. Maybe on that day we'll finally understand each other again.

We love you. We can't say that enough.