More mountains yet to climb
I seldom write about my family. But nearly a decade ago, I wrote a column when my oldest son turned 9-years-old, recognizing that he had reached the halfway mark to becoming an adult:
“And now he’s nine, still a little boy who eats with elbows on the table and who wants to be tucked into bed at night. Yet, he’s 50 percent of the way toward adulthood…”
I lamented in that column about how fast time was flying:
“Half? Say it isn’t so. He was just born yesterday, all fat-faced and full of life. At night, I would often rock him to sleep and lay him in a crib, then get up running if he cried during the darkness.”
But I also shared the excitement of watching him grow:
“There’s always a new age to become, new experiences to be had, more milestones to crush beneath restless feet. Nine. It’s such a good age. There’re sports and school and lots of new worlds left to explore.”
Isn’t that the feeling of all parents? We alternate between wanting our children to grow into their next stage, yet also wanting to hold onto those special moments of childhood.
In the years since I wrote that column, I’ve had many special moments with my son.
We’ve hiked miles and miles up mountains, through the woods, and across fields and streams.
We learned to SCUBA dive together and to snow ski; he, the expert skier, will still come down off the steep slopes to slush around with his less adventurous father.
When he turned 15, we took a two-week ramble across Europe in a father-son adventure that I will long treasure.
There were endless weekends of watching him play tennis, often getting up at 5 a.m. to drive to a tournament somewhere. Sometimes he won and brought home a trophy; sometimes he came home empty-handed, but seldom dejected.
There were various school events where I got to see him shine, from spelling bees to honors nights. I’m still in awe of his mathematical abilities. My family has been in America for around 16 generations, but it’s only the 17th generation that finally understands math.
And I remember the day he got his driver’s license, a day that gave both of us a mixed blessing of more freedom.
***
For all parents, however, each special moment also comes with a pang of emotion. As I said years ago:
“Far more than the aches and pains of aging are the aches of knowing that we have to let go of our children, one small step at a time.”
And now one of those steps — a big one — looms.
Friday night, Blair Michael Buffington will walk with his peers across the stage for his high school graduation.
His tall, lanky, 18-year-old frame will be draped in a blue gown with a red V down the front; a golden rope will fall around his neck and shoulders; and a blue graduation cap, festooned with a gold tassel, will sit atop his mop of thick blond hair.
Blair has literally climbed mountains in the past, sucking in the thin air at high altitudes. But Friday’s event will be one of the tallest peaks he and his friends have yet scaled.
And it won’t be the last. In the fall will come college, and someday, another graduation. Then work and family and children of his own, each a new mountain where the landscape changes and the views grow even larger.
Nine years ago I anticipated this moment:
“There are a few more days left to hold his hand as we climb this mountain together, but they are fading fast. Someday soon, he will climb it alone. And I will smile and wave as he moves on, then wipe away the tear that moves all too slowly down my cheek.”
Congratulations, son.
May you always find higher mountains to climb, new peaks to explore and new views to cherish.
Mike Buffington is co-publisher of Mainstreet Newspapers, Inc. and editor of The Jackson Herald. He can be reached at mike@mainstreetnews.com.
I lamented in that column about how fast time was flying:
“Half? Say it isn’t so. He was just born yesterday, all fat-faced and full of life. At night, I would often rock him to sleep and lay him in a crib, then get up running if he cried during the darkness.”
But I also shared the excitement of watching him grow:
“There’s always a new age to become, new experiences to be had, more milestones to crush beneath restless feet. Nine. It’s such a good age. There’re sports and school and lots of new worlds left to explore.”
Isn’t that the feeling of all parents? We alternate between wanting our children to grow into their next stage, yet also wanting to hold onto those special moments of childhood.
In the years since I wrote that column, I’ve had many special moments with my son.
We’ve hiked miles and miles up mountains, through the woods, and across fields and streams.
We learned to SCUBA dive together and to snow ski; he, the expert skier, will still come down off the steep slopes to slush around with his less adventurous father.
When he turned 15, we took a two-week ramble across Europe in a father-son adventure that I will long treasure.
There were endless weekends of watching him play tennis, often getting up at 5 a.m. to drive to a tournament somewhere. Sometimes he won and brought home a trophy; sometimes he came home empty-handed, but seldom dejected.
There were various school events where I got to see him shine, from spelling bees to honors nights. I’m still in awe of his mathematical abilities. My family has been in America for around 16 generations, but it’s only the 17th generation that finally understands math.
And I remember the day he got his driver’s license, a day that gave both of us a mixed blessing of more freedom.
***
For all parents, however, each special moment also comes with a pang of emotion. As I said years ago:
“Far more than the aches and pains of aging are the aches of knowing that we have to let go of our children, one small step at a time.”
And now one of those steps — a big one — looms.
Friday night, Blair Michael Buffington will walk with his peers across the stage for his high school graduation.
His tall, lanky, 18-year-old frame will be draped in a blue gown with a red V down the front; a golden rope will fall around his neck and shoulders; and a blue graduation cap, festooned with a gold tassel, will sit atop his mop of thick blond hair.
Blair has literally climbed mountains in the past, sucking in the thin air at high altitudes. But Friday’s event will be one of the tallest peaks he and his friends have yet scaled.
And it won’t be the last. In the fall will come college, and someday, another graduation. Then work and family and children of his own, each a new mountain where the landscape changes and the views grow even larger.
Nine years ago I anticipated this moment:
“There are a few more days left to hold his hand as we climb this mountain together, but they are fading fast. Someday soon, he will climb it alone. And I will smile and wave as he moves on, then wipe away the tear that moves all too slowly down my cheek.”
Congratulations, son.
May you always find higher mountains to climb, new peaks to explore and new views to cherish.
Mike Buffington is co-publisher of Mainstreet Newspapers, Inc. and editor of The Jackson Herald. He can be reached at mike@mainstreetnews.com.
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I will forever treasure the article you wrote about Jeff....