Musings on Having a 19 Year Old Child

Me and my son at his high school graduation

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Today my oldest turned 19. It’s a happy day for him, but if I’m completely honest with myself, which is something that I take pride in doing, I have to admit that it kind if sucks for me. I mean, yeah I’m happy that he’s becoming a man and a responsible adult, but the selfish part of me is upset. As he gets older, I get older. He is entering the dawn of adulthood, while I head toward the dusk of middle age.

Humans are inherently selfish, an aspect of our programming this exists to keep us alive. If not for it, we would not have the capacity to take care of ourselves first, which is what we all do everyday on a subconscious level. If you don’t believe this to be so, consider what kinds of behaviors you would display in the face of a zombie apocalypse, or more realistically, a natural disaster. Would you be willing to put someone else first for the sake of your own survival?

I say this in an attempt to justify the contradiction I feel for this day. I’m proud and excited for my son on his day, yet I’m also anxious and fearful for my own future. I know logically it is ridiculous for me to feel this way, but I am a human with emotions that override the conscious mind. So here I am, complaining about myself on my son’s birthday. I would imagine my own frame of mind and current state of being has something to do with it. I have recently opened myself up to believe that anything is possible and that everything that does happen to me is important or else it wouldn’t happen.

That includes the thoughts I have on this day. Please understand that I love my son very much and wish all the best for him as he steps onto a new rung in his life. Maybe I’m a little jealous that he is young with decades ahead of him. I look back at myself as a 19 year old and hope he makes better decisions than I did. No amount of telling him and trying to explain it to him through words will do. His own personal experiences will teach him everything he needs to know…if he pays attention and grasps the lessons.

But hey, I’m only 42. Maybe I still have decades in front of me as well. I am middle aged. It’s tough coming to terms with and accepting this as my current reality. Maybe that’s why my thoughts are so tumultuous. Whatever the cause for my internal back and forth, I’m sure that by as early as tomorrow, I’ll have a completely different outlook about everything I’ve just said.

So is the mind of an introverted writer.