My son started preseason wrestling with his club team on Monday. It is secondary to football until November, but something he wanted to do. Of course, as a twelve-year-old, he waited until just hours before practice to try on his wrestling shoes. We bought them big last season, and I hadn’t given any thought to them not fitting for this preseason. The “old” shoes are 9-1/2s. He is now wearing 11s. Fortunately, I had a pair of size 12s for him to wear the first night. Amazon will have a new pair to him by his next practice.
Having my “little” boy wear my shoes has, like so many things in the lives of my children, caused me pause. Of course, I am reflecting on how fast he is growing up and how time is flying by, but, moreover, it has caused me to think about him filling my shoes and my role in who he is becoming.
I have enjoyed reading Season of Life by Jeffrey Marx several times. Subsequently, I try to read InSideOut Coaching by Joe Ehrmann once a year or so. Both books chronicle Joe Ehrmann’s philosophy of “building men (and women) for others”. Like Joe Ehrmann, I prefer to see my success as a parent, teacher, and/or coach as a long-term accomplishment. In other words, my success (hopefully not failure) as a parent will be seen in my children (and students) years from now in their employment, their relationships, etc.
So, my son beginning to “fill my shoes” reminds me that my time is short. The opportunities are now. If ever carpe momento applies, it is certainly in parenting.
Parenting is not something we can put off until tomorrow. It is not for us to pass off to another. Otherwise, we might get caught with shoes that are too small.
I often feel like I am too hard on my kids. Maybe I have too many rules? Maybe I need to let them just be kids? Of course, I come to my senses and realize that they don’t have to like me today. They have to become good citizens—and that is on me, if they don’t.
There is that time in parenting when we catch ourselves thinking: “I sound just like my father.” Perhaps, for some, this is really not a good thing. For me, I think it with some satisfaction—much satisfaction. I know there were times when I rolled my eyes or moaned like my son after my parents corrected me for something. Of course, I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but I am who I am because my parents cared more about loving me than me liking them.
I grew into my father’s shoes. And, hopefully, I have outgrown them—just like I hope my son will outgrow mine. Now, while it may be literal that I have grown larger than my father—and I suspect my son will literally be bigger than me. My hope is that there is a figurative generational “outgrowing” that has and will occur. “Better” is an awkward word to use here. I am by no means superior to my father, but, I am sure, he would say I have grown (or am growing) into a better man than him. We are, after all, given what we are given to work with and expected to pass on the lessons to the next generation. We grow and hope that our children grow more. We make mistakes, but, if we do our job as parents, we help prevent the next generation from repeating them. The shoes get passed on.
So, as my son wears my shoes in practice. I see they are still a little big on him and I have work to do. I see that he is becoming a man—with or without me. It is my opportunity—my responsibility—to see that he becomes a man of gentle strength and character. I certainly welcome the help I am receiving from others—family, coaches, teachers, etc.—but I see my opportunity is fleeting.
Carpe momento!