Doing Things Different

I remember my dad telling me, while I was in grade school his job was to teach me life lessons. During high school, his job was to let me be more independent and live out those life lessons but when I fell, he’d be there to pick me up. It was his way to prepare me for being an adult.

You know those babies who it seems like they want to skip crawling, and move straight to walking? I honestly don’t even think it’s possible, but there are still kiddos who seem they are in such a stinkin’ hurry to grow up.

Tunes was one of those kids. He was walking at ten months. Anything and everything he had just a little bit interest in, he may not have excelled in, but he sure did pretty well.

I could always see how his brother Justice felt like he was falling short while walking in his brother’s footsteps. Many times it would be enough for him to flat out, not try.

Tunes has never been one to follow the rules. He’s always had to try things his way. He’d have Legos kits, but was never interested in following their plans. He would take his working toys apart and try to invent something new. He’s always thought differently than other people. So why am I so surprised he’d want to enter his adulthood any other way?

Tunes lost his privilege to live in our house. He is now living with a friend and his family, taking two classes at high school and has managed to get his grades up two weeks before graduating, has been working 30 or more hours at a job he’s had for the past 9 months, and has recently obtained a second job that’s located in same parking lot as his first.

He seems to be doing pretty good.

He’s never been a conventional kid, why would he start now? Why didn’t I see this coming?

It’s when I think about all the steps he’s skipped to get here, it’s when I become anxious. I feel I’ve let him down since I haven’t been able to walk him through them. So many things he didn’t get to experience in my house. So many things my dad would qualify as practicing and opportunities; going out with friends, driving a car, falling in love, I don’t know if I get to help with.

I feel there’s such a huge area of life he’s skipping, and I’m struggling to be ok with. I would never want to be one of those people who stand on the sidelines waiting for something to go horribly wrong, just to say, I told you so.

But I will stand here, waiting, watching, and wondering, where I fit in.

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