Hold Your Breath

One of the scariest things that I have felt as a father is the semi-sudden awareness that my children will leave the nest. They will go from infant to toddler, child to tween, and then from teenager into adulthood, and in my eyes it will have happened so quickly that I could’ve held my breath and watched it happen before I was forced to exhale. There will be points in their lives where you see phantom glimmers of their adulthood peeking out at you and winking, hinting at their futures. These glimmers will become more prominent and then morph into behavior patterns, which will then shape how your child takes his or her own niche in the world. And it will at times remind you of yourself and how you went through transitions in your own childhood. But you will one day realize that your own parents saw those glimmers in you, and your perspective will flip from that of a son, to a father, and then to a father’s son.

My oldest son Joshua, who just turned 15 recently, took charge of a barbecue at a family gathering while he was visiting last week. Some of the older kids had taken a quick trip to the grocery store and grabbed stuff for lunch to feed the 24+ people who were there; hot dogs, buns, and cake. When they gave the hot dogs to my step-Mom’s Father “Boppa” who normally cooks on the grill, Joshua stepped up and said that he could take care of the grill. He didn’t ask anyone if he could do it. He didn’t ask me if it was OK. He instead stated confidently that he could do it and waited patiently for Boppa to relinquish control of the hot dogs. Boppa asked Joshua if he knew what he was doing, to which Joshua replied, “Yup. I can do it.”

Three other family members stepped up to me with concern etched into their faces and asked me (outside of Joshua’s hearing) if Joshua did indeed “know what he was doing.” Although I wasn’t totally sure myself, I didn’t hesitate to confirm to everyone that Joshua knew his business around food. He has taken several cooking classes in school where the students switch roles after each class project. This means that if one person cooks for one project, that person will shift duties during the next project and wash dishes, or plan the menu, or shop for the ingredients, or whatever. This allows each student to gain a good diverse background in operating all facets of a running kitchen.

Joshua was flawless on the grill; he cooked all 32 hot dogs without burning or overcooking a single one. I overheard Boppa telling a couple of the older kids that he learned something from Joshua about cooking hot dogs as well. Boppa’s routine was normally to throw the dogs on the gas grill, close the lid, and then take them off when they’re cooked, sometimes causing overcooking. Joshua left the lid open and stood there cooking each one, turning them as they cooked. When Boppa asked Joshua why he kept the lid open, Joshua explained to him that the temperature gets too hot when the lid is closed and tends to overcook or burn hot dogs very quickly, especially with gas grills.

Witnessing that scene, I realized that my son displayed solid confidence that was borne from solid experience. Not only that, but took that adult step in the eyes of all of those people who were there at that barbecue. He was no longer solely the troublesome youth, or untamed impulse, that he displayed years ago. He let slip his inner man and wore it across his shoulders in proud silence like a cape. It reminded me of one of my favorite lines from the Superman movies:

“You will make my strength your own. You will see my life through your eyes, as your life will be seen through mine. The son becomes the father and the father becomes the son.”

For me this statement represents the inevitable change that sons eventually make as they transition into their own manhood and become fathers. They will one day see themselves in their own sons, and realize that they can now see themselves through their fathers’ eyes. Pay attention, because if you take a deep breath, you’ll miss it before you have a chance to exhale.