When adult kids come home from school break
Our older son will be home from college this week. I’ve been counting the days until Thanksgiving ever since he left for school in August. I miss him a lot.
I don’t doubt this is sort of a oneway street. I’m old and sentimental; he’s young and busy with his life.
I’m reminded of the saying that when you’re 20 years old you worry about what other people think of you; when you’re 40 you don’t care so much; and when you’re 60 you realize nobody was thinking about you to start with.
When you are 20 years old, you also don’t think much about your parents, who are largely “out of sight and out of mind.” You’ll think more about your parents years later, when you have kids of your own.
When I was my son’s age and going home to Columbia, Tennessee, for Thanksgiving, my biggest concern was being deprived of some of my college vices for four days. That sounds sad, but it’s true. Any eagerness I felt about being home revolved around turkey, dumplings and long naps — not hugs from great-aunts who smelled like gardenias.
I’ll love spending time with my son this week, but I also know he just wants to come home and crash — and maybe reconnect with high school friends. Poker with his buddies sounds a lot better than spades with mom and dad. I get that.
The academic and social pressures of college are real, and sometimes your kids just need a break. That’s why I still have anxiety dreams about college 40 years after graduation. That’s also why I say a daily prayer asking God to bless and protect our son down in Birmingham.
I’ve been attending the same Sunday School class for about 18 years. It’s called the Faith, Friends and Family class, but could just as easily be called Parenting 101. Most of us started in the class with infants and now have children in
Our children have grown up with much more parental involvement than people of my generation — the baby boomers — had when we were growing up. The Sunday afternoon phone call of the 1980s has been replaced by the daily texts of the 2020s.
college or beyond. Having a small group to compare notes with about parenting has been a blessing. Last Sunday, we talked about kids coming home for the holidays and how we should treat them.
One class member remembered how her mother used to rouse her from bed in the mornings when she was home for the holidays, when all she wanted to do was “sleep for three days.”
I added that I’m trying to stop peppering my son with questions when I see him in person. I’ve made a promise with myself to only ask every other question that comes to mind. It’s a start toward giving him the independence (and privacy) he needs.
We all agreed that the “obey your parents” admonition in the Bible lapses when your children become adults. The best you can hope for is that they will honor — not obey — you. Honoring means giving consideration to your suggestions, which is much different than obedience.
I’m not sure I honored my parents in any meaningful way when I was 20. But that was all about my immaturity and ingratitude, not mistakes on their part.
Our children have grown up with much more parental involvement than people of my generation — the baby boomers — had when we were growing up. The Sunday afternoon phone call of the 1980s has been replaced by the daily texts of the 2020s.
Social media and GPS phone tracking apps have also changed the calculus of parent-adult child relationships. These days, it takes a conscious uncoupling to gain space between the generations.
Still, I can’t help thinking that the best thing about Thanksgiving is this: Afterward, there are only 18 days left until Christmas break when our son will be home again.