I know it's been a long time since I last posted a blog entry. There is a reason for it: I've taken a (gasp!) real job. Since the demise of the King County Journal, which carried my weekly column for 6 years, I have not had a paying job. The new gig is part-time, a week here, a week there. And I just finished two weeks of here and there. We also had a nasty computer crash installing "updates" for Vista. Hence my silence.
In July our son Joe moved back home after having lived elsewhere since high school. And at that time, we didn't part on the best of terms. Ok, I kicked him out. He was an angry, sullen 19 year-old, and I was a mean, mean mom. We were out of touch for 6 months.
This has been, by far so far, the hardest time of parenting. Our boys didn't go through the "Terrible Twos," they went through the "Terrible Two-Os" or the "Terrible Twenties." How could I face the parents of all their college-bound friends whose kids had scholarships and goals? How could I say that my sons were between jobs, that one had been fired, that we had given each of them one "get-out-of-jail-free" card that they have already used? I'll tell you how. I had to grow up. I quit judging them. I had to decide that it didn't matter what other people thought. I had to realize that even the best of kids were facing challenges, making mistakes, doing stupid things, and disappointing their parents. And the parents who had perfect children were lying.
About two years ago, Joe started at the entry level of an organization. Now his constantly improving work ethic is drawing the attention of the bosses. His attitude is so different that we are actually enjoying having him back home, and we look forward to spending time with him. I get along well with his girlfriend, and she's easy to have around when she's here.
For years I have prayed that something would "flip his switch." I wanted him to become interested in something that would open up his mind to learning. I am happy to say that Joe is now into reading. He is like a hungry man who just discovered food. It all began with the TV show "LOST." It seems that some of the characters are voracious readers. There is an extensive reading list assembled for fans of the show, and Joe started reading it out of curiosity. So far he has read Great Expectations by Dickens, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, Island by Aldous Huxley, Shakespeare, and other timeless literature. Every few weeks I call him at work to tell him that another box of books has arrived. When he opens each box, you would think he was a ten year-old getting a Red Rider BB Gun. He keeps pushing me (and Dad) to read along with him so that we can discuss the books. We talk about vocabulary, Latin derivations, plots, characterization, and archaic language. He calls me in the middle of the day to ask the definition of an obscure word, or to ask how many chapters I finished before I fell asleep. If he catches me doing a Sudoku, I feel like a homework-avoiding kid.
We have had many wonderful moments with Joe over the years, as well as times that are best forgiven and forgotten. But spending a lazy summer Sunday afternoon reading under the Locust tree has given me amnesia for the troubles, and hope for his future. I think his switch has been flipped.