Premium ContentMouse over Home then click on Premium Content for information.A young man I have come to know and admire entered a new phase of life yesterday — teendom.
Calling the teenage years a mere phase, of course, doesn't do them justice. In one's life, those few years are practically an epoch.
Adolescence, the early part of the teen years, can be tumultuous and even tempestuous. The joke is that between 13 and 17, a parent ages 20 years.
But being a teenager sets the stage for adulthood, for becoming your own person.
Thirteen, more or less, is when life changes, when you're not just growing older but also growing up — an awkward, sometimes awful yet wonderfully awesome age.
With all the physical, mental and emotional changes, it's tough. But the possibilities beyond 13 are limitless.
The newly minted teenager who led me to think about all this is my oldest grandchild. His birth in 1999 moved me back then to write not only about his new life but also about the new stage in my own life — becoming a grandpa.
As grandparents and parents, we all pretty much wish the same things for our children and grandchildren. We hope and we pray for lives of good health, kindness, curiosity, responsibility, discovery, selflessness, ambition, purpose and fulfillment.
When Jonathan was born, I wrote: "We near the end of a century that saw great advances and unspeakable horror. May your coming century be much better."
With the unspeakable horror of Sept. 11, 2001, and the wars, threats and economic distress since then, the 21st century isn't off to a great start.
But each generation is a societal regeneration, and so there is hope.
Within families, there is a natural, healthy tension. When Jonathan was about 3, he and I, in effect, had a brief standoff over someone close to both of us — his mother, who is my daughter.
He had been crying and fussing at his mom, and I said playfully: "Hey, you can't talk to my little girl like that. Did you know she is my daughter?"
He responded emphatically, declaring the primacy of their relationship: "But she's MY mommy!"
OK, point taken: A little boy's relationship to his mother is by definition closer than an adult daughter's to her father. I got busy with something else, and he calmed down.
Years passed and my daughter and her husband filled their house, now with five children. When a little sister learning to talk tried to say "Jonathan," it came out "Jof'n." So today we still sometimes call him "Jof."
Jof plays lots of sports and has learned that, as with life, games are not always easy. Last summer his baseball team traveled to Cooperstown, N.Y., site of the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, and played against good teams from around the country.
He had struggled, and we were pulling for him. Then he cracked one.
I don't know which image was better — the ball disappearing over the fence or the smile on his face as he rounded first base. The pummelling at home plate by his teammates was sweet, too.
Everyone savors those small moments of success for their kids, whether in sports, music, academics or other activities. The struggle is what makes the success worthwhile.
Days of difficulty and hard work lie ahead. That's true whether we are 13 or 63. Even on the higher end of that age scale, we strive to stay relevant, curious and vibrant.
At birth, Jonathan weighed 8 pounds. At 13, he stands 5-foot-4 and weighs 105, still waiting for his growth spurt.
With him and most others his age, growth will come — not just in height and muscularity but also in mental, emotional and spiritual strength.
As I urged at his birth: Laugh a lot, play hard and run like the wind. Reflect. Dream bold dreams. Read, think, question. Take some risks. Treat all others with respect.
It seems a short time ago that these 13-year-olds were babies, for crying out loud. Now look. High school, college and adulthood lie just around the corner.
Yes, age 13 may be awkward, but all that lies ahead just might be awesome.
Contact the writer:
402-444-1132, michael.kelly@owh.com
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