Supporting the next generation isn’t as simple as it might seem. When you become a parent, part of your role (if not your major one) is to turn out a fully functioning adult who doesn’t pillage villages or launch nuclear weapons indiscriminately.
You work hard to teach your kids the right things, to be polite, share with others, listen, make decisions by exercising the brain they were given. Along the way, you get to see results, both good and bad.
In the course of parenting, you hope to take your children places so they learn and grow, see other cities, countries, and cultures if economically feasible, and experience how others live. We’ve been able to give our kids some excellent formative experiences as my jobs have moved our family around the U.S.
Camping, vacations and weekend trips have all afforded us time to share some beautiful scenery and enjoy being out in primitive surroundings that require you to depend heavily on your instincts and ability to survive. Rainbows, sunsets, the ocean, the great Lake Superior, acres and acres of untouched northern forests are all incredible things we’ve been able to immerse our senses in.
It’s been a great ride. We’ve experienced places I never expected we’d visit. So why do I feel like something is slipping away? There are still many landmarks I’d like to see, but it’s about more than just that urge.
There’s something about seeing your kids taking off on their own, experiencing the things they want, and exploring where they want, that takes you back to your own earlier years. Part of that becomes a nostalgia tour. You relive memories. More than that though, it gets you thinking about your life, where you’ve been and why, and how at a certain point, you start turning over the keys to the next generation. It’s their turn.
My wife and I discuss this transition with our three kids. We hope we’ve prepared them for the world, the obstacles they’ll face, and the challenges they must overcome. A broad set of experiences prepares you for the ball ricocheting back into your face. Traveling helps give you that extra perspective to handle the lumps.
Our son Kirby recently got the opportunity to hike the Grand Canyon. Thankfully, I’ve never wanted to hike it, so there’s no envy or jealously.”
When he got the invite, I was psyched for him, “What a great experience for an 18-year-old young man. He’ll love it.” He did, and he texted photos, so we got the modern day rundown on the trip.
But it left me continuing to think about how he’s heading out now, and he has a new world to experience and that he owns his life. It’s a great stage, but it also sets the parent back because you remember how wide open everything seemed, the opportunities to experience the world.
That hasn’t gone away. But the feeling has changed. As your kids leave the house, you free up time for your own new experiences, but they are the dreams of an older man and tinged with a different fantasy about what constitutes fun, excitement and joy.
It’s odd. You don’t think of these stages until you enter them. You can only live through them, and adjust to the currents.
Plug on, add something that you look forward to in your future plans. That’s a good tip our mother gave us as she got older. It’s a good one to remember.
I don’t need to hike the Grand Canyon, but I would like to see Niagara Falls again. Just not in a barrel. That’s for the younger days.
You work hard to teach your kids the right things, to be polite, share with others, listen, make decisions by exercising the brain they were given. Along the way, you get to see results, both good and bad.
In the course of parenting, you hope to take your children places so they learn and grow, see other cities, countries, and cultures if economically feasible, and experience how others live. We’ve been able to give our kids some excellent formative experiences as my jobs have moved our family around the U.S.
Camping, vacations and weekend trips have all afforded us time to share some beautiful scenery and enjoy being out in primitive surroundings that require you to depend heavily on your instincts and ability to survive. Rainbows, sunsets, the ocean, the great Lake Superior, acres and acres of untouched northern forests are all incredible things we’ve been able to immerse our senses in.
It’s been a great ride. We’ve experienced places I never expected we’d visit. So why do I feel like something is slipping away? There are still many landmarks I’d like to see, but it’s about more than just that urge.
There’s something about seeing your kids taking off on their own, experiencing the things they want, and exploring where they want, that takes you back to your own earlier years. Part of that becomes a nostalgia tour. You relive memories. More than that though, it gets you thinking about your life, where you’ve been and why, and how at a certain point, you start turning over the keys to the next generation. It’s their turn.
My wife and I discuss this transition with our three kids. We hope we’ve prepared them for the world, the obstacles they’ll face, and the challenges they must overcome. A broad set of experiences prepares you for the ball ricocheting back into your face. Traveling helps give you that extra perspective to handle the lumps.
Our son Kirby recently got the opportunity to hike the Grand Canyon. Thankfully, I’ve never wanted to hike it, so there’s no envy or jealously.”
When he got the invite, I was psyched for him, “What a great experience for an 18-year-old young man. He’ll love it.” He did, and he texted photos, so we got the modern day rundown on the trip.
But it left me continuing to think about how he’s heading out now, and he has a new world to experience and that he owns his life. It’s a great stage, but it also sets the parent back because you remember how wide open everything seemed, the opportunities to experience the world.
That hasn’t gone away. But the feeling has changed. As your kids leave the house, you free up time for your own new experiences, but they are the dreams of an older man and tinged with a different fantasy about what constitutes fun, excitement and joy.
It’s odd. You don’t think of these stages until you enter them. You can only live through them, and adjust to the currents.
Plug on, add something that you look forward to in your future plans. That’s a good tip our mother gave us as she got older. It’s a good one to remember.
I don’t need to hike the Grand Canyon, but I would like to see Niagara Falls again. Just not in a barrel. That’s for the younger days.
