My son turns 39 today

I was awake this morning at the time of my son’s birth, just before 8 AM Central Time. He is a remarkable human being and I am so thankful with the decision I made in 1982 when I got unexpectedly pregnant as first year resident in a urology residency. I ignored the fact that it was a horrible time to be pregnant and have a child. I had terminated a pregnancy 3 years earlier and did not want to make that choice again. I did not tolerate the birth control pill and we were a fertile young couple in spite of barrier birth control methods.

I knew there would never be a good time to have a child. My husband was working on his PhD with a fairly flexible schedule and I had parents and siblings within an hour to provide support. I knew my parents were ready to be grandparents so there was never any thought given to not being pregnant. Pregnancy during residency was a grueling experience and I will reflect on that at a later time. Today I want to reflect on my son.

He was a pretty easy baby except that he did not go to bed easily and this persisted throughout his life and perhaps worked well for his chosen career as a musician. I wonder if all of the stress hormones running through my body during pregnancy from the challenges and lack of sleep of residency were a part of this. I did my best to be “present” for him during by residency, fellowship and early years of practice, but there was no question that his father was his primary caretaker.

He loved playing with sticks and wooden spoons as a toddler – so much that my sister hand painted wooden spoons as a Christmas present when he was 2 or 3. He has grown up to be a very talented drummer. For awhile during grade school he would spend hours perfecting his autograph – also useful for his future that was unknown at the time.

We called him Jamie until he went to Kindergarten. He came home one day and said his name was James. He developed independence very early as I think his father and I both did. I recall a particular parenting struggle when he was in third grade and being chonically late with his reading assignments. Per usual, enticements and deterrents were equally ineffective. He finally said “It is my problem and I will deal with it!” And that continued. He lived with the consequences of his decisions.

He spent 6-8 weeks every summer from age 4 -15 or 16 on the Iowa farm with grandparents and various aunts/uncles. He was a city kid and did not really help out with any farm work. He was the oldest grandchildren and only one for almost 6 years so he had a very special relationship with my parents and siblings. He was a great “cuz-uncle” with his first cousins. He was good friends with a boy from a neighboring farm that was two years older and I knew this relationship allowed him to test his boundaries in his early teen years. My parents had raised 3 sons and I figured that Iowa was a safer place to “scare himself a bit” than back in Seattle.

My father was a gregarious person who got along with most people and my son has that ability as well. I didn’t quite realize how special their relationship truly was until he asked his grandfather to be one of his groomsmen. When my father died, the one thing my son wanted was the key to the back door of the farm house. He has worn it around his neck. Several years ago when I was in Nashville and we were helping one of his friends move, the necklace broke and he key fell off. About a half dozen people spent a fair amount of time searching the yard and the key was found. It meant A LOT to me that the key meant so much to him.

His relationship with my parents was so much different from mine. Their constant bickering had very negative impact on me, but he seemed to find it more amusing and perhaps understood some of the discord to be how they expressed “affection”.

I finally figured out a way to be far more present for him when he was in high school and I took a position in Philadelphia while he stayed in Seattle. I negotiated to spend a week of month in Seattle where I could be a full-time mother to a high schooler. I kept my home for the week I was there and he stayed with his father the other weeks. When I was in Seattle, I took him to school, picked him up from school and didn’t worked when he was home. It was something that I had never been able to figure out how to do while I was working in Seattle. Our relationship improved when I actually made time to be there for him.

During his challenging adolescent years, I remember saying to friends that I would be content with whomever he became as long was he was respectful to women. In my own mind, I knew I could be accepting of tattoos, piercings, unusual hair styles or colors but knew I would be very challenged if he were to become an “Alex P. Keaton”. He did not.

He found his passion in drumming in junior high. While he had taken snare drum lessons in 2nd grade, he did not continue. He tried trumpet, saxophone and guitar in 5th/6th grade but nothing clicked. One day in 7th grade he said he wanted a drum set. This was shortly after the divorce. I had the home with a basement so I was a great target for this request. Getting the drum set for him was one of the best decisions I ever made. He not only found his passion but a great mentor in his private drum instructor, a great peer group and teachers for his high school years.

He has matured into a thoughtful, kind man that is indeed very respectful to women. He seems to understand how to a loving and supportive partner in his 20 year relationship with his wife. Perhaps he learned more about what not to do from the examples in his life and those helped him understand what was really important in his own marriage

He has been very supportive of my transition from “giving it my all” to my work to not working. When I express any guilt at not having accomplished much in any given day, he says “DON”T feel guilty.” When I feel a little unhinged because I didn’t have a plan for the future, he reminds me that I didn’t need one. I can relax and see how things unfolded.

My decision to move to Nashville was a good one. There is comfort in being nearby for me and I hope for him as well. As he matured into an wonderful human being, I have gradually felt less guilt for not being a bigger part in his life when he was young. I think today, his 39th birthday is a good time to formally “let the guilt go”.

He is the best of me and his father.