There’s an old school song lyric that I recently saw made into a tattoo, and it’s one that’s been rattling around the confines of my addled mind for more than a few minutes:
Juvenes Dum Sumus”
Translated from Latin, it means:
“Let us rejoice therefore
while we are young”
This summer I got to witness my son go from inflatable water wings and clinging to the sides of the shallow end of the pool to diving for rubber snakes in the 6′ deep section. He figured out how to throw a baseball without looking like he was having severe muscle cramps. He rode the bike without training wheels. His drawing skills keep getting better and he can draw a better SpongeBob than I. My other son is a young comic with disarming charm – he held the door open for a lady at the movies tonight, and he’s only six. His memory and recall are what I rely on almost daily to find my car keys or that one shoe I keep losing.
They’re growing up, those boys.
As we slide into Fall, and seasons and lives continue to evolve and change and grow, so too do my young Heathens. Their futures are unwritten, as are all of ours, but their slates are clean. You and I, we are living with the battle scars and badges of life’s choices, for better or worse. When they run across the lawn at full speed, with reckless abandon, I want them to cherish that very moment; I am. They won’t, they’re just busy living life with the throttle pinned wide open, much more concerned with which Transformer can defeat which Jedi than with drinking in the heavy, proud emotions I feel as I watch them. Before long they won’t want to spend their free time playing catch or Lego’s with me so much, and that’s as it should be. Here’s what they will know: no matter what, I’m right there for them with every step from learning how to drive to learning how to deal those uncharted waters of first loves and unwanted teen acne. For now, today, they’re still right here, and yet I miss them already. Perhaps it’s time for me to kick off the shoes and jump on the trampoline with them for a while, or at least till I get motion sick.
Time to rejoice a little. Love a lot.
Even if I’m not so young.
Again Uli, well said. It’s seems like a small thing, but I remember the first time my son opened the door for me. I was so proud at the time, and I know now that all those accumulated niceties over the years help turn our sons into respectful fine young men. Keep up the good work setting the example for your boys!