Twenty Years

It has been twenty years plus a day since my youngest son was born. As I think back on the time when I was the one who just turned twenty, I reflect on the differences between "turning twenty years old in 1980" verses "turning twenty in 2018".

By the time I was twenty, I had been married, had a child, divorced, started working at a restaurant which was quickly enhanced by a second job at the bank, I had bought a townhouse the month I turned nineteen, so by the time I was twenty years old I had established a nice little independent life of my own.

Contrast that with my son at age twenty. He is just getting nicely established in his classes at University, he has a part time job at a grocery store, has a group of friends he sees regularly and has established a nice little life of his own, here at home.

I was financially independent (with the safety net of knowing my parents would probably catch me if I started to free fall) and had struck out on my own.

Though my son supports all of his own spending and costs related to running his car, he is rather dependent on living at home and the creature comforts that provides.

While looking backwards, maybe I should have tried to seek out a University degree to better pay my own way going forward. I have recently learned that a degree makes a difference in the amount of your pay cheque (who knew??!). Even knowing that, I believe I would have chosen independence over furthering my education in my own personal circumstance.

When looking at "today", I feel my son has made a good choice by choosing education over independence. While living independently and forging your own way through life is the best way in the world to discover who you are, become accountable and find out what you are capable of, "life" is a very good teacher and will take care of that in due time.

I think of the comfortable life we lead here together under our shared roof. While I know I would and will fully support my son's decision to move out and into his own life when the time comes, I also know that our peaceful co-existence is beneficial to both of us.

As much as I do not enjoy leaving our home to go out and forge a life on my own, I have a feeling that I may not feel that way if there was not another human being sharing this roof with me. Not only do I have a man about the house who is willing to share some of the household responsibilities, I know that I am not alone. I am simply grateful that my son is not being held back due to him feeling like he HAS to stay home.

I think of Mom and my brother when he decided to move out on his own and prove to himself that he was capable of making his way on his own.

As much as Mom encouraged living away from home as the best thing that can happen as a child grows up, she must have missed his presence when he left home. She had various boarders who stayed with her which would have eased her through the transition, but it still marked the end of an era. An era she believed in completely and fully in all the years to follow.

Twenty years. It passes so quickly. It marks the time in different lives, different and unique ways.

It has been a good twenty years. I hope my son feels the same...