Some parents will swear that they know their kid better than anyone else, a claim that tends to lose more of its truth as a child learns to play different roles in their increasing interpersonal relationships, and their parents are left with the humbling thought that who they once knew isn't as important sometimes as who they seldom get to see. In the case of my son, Phoenix, I can only speak of his first few formative years, though those stories my well yield some truths about a beautiful personality that will find a challenge blossoming amidst a garden of dead shrubs. I can tell you stories of a bright eyed, energetic boy practically from birth, and a very humble, shy kid who never really got other people's obsession with his appearance. He saved his beaming and gloating for life - an attribute that made not just parenthood but home life much better than it would have been. It was quite rare when I caught Phoenix on a downer for very long, and it was indeed often when he would pull me out of my own funks with his pranks and sense of mischief. His strength and individuality: both an inspiration to me. I would have done well to have lived through the domestic ordeal we were stuck in half as well as he did, always finding ways to break silent tension, and not with the neurotic reactive behavior patterns that most kids exhibit in those unfortunate situations. He genuinely seemed impervious (at least externally) to a quarreling house where everyone hated everyone else but him, which always made everyone else look much more ignorant than they already were, of course. His stubbornness was more of an advantage than an obstacle to me as a parent, as everyone who wanted to change his ways (or, worse, yell at him) was met with a silent, and sometimes silly, defiance. I heard a story recently where his grandfather wanted to ban Phoenix from his house because the boy wouldn't shake his hand or sit in his lap. His mother took her dad's side, of course. But Phoenix takes his own side. I know this side very well, it inspires the hell out of me even though he and I no longer know each other. This may be another quality that atrophies over the years that he faces, or maybe I will always know an amazing quality of his that will remain with him forever, as he rises from the ashes of whatever he leaves behind. Surely with the passing of time, posterity may well have more to say than will I about Phoenix. But I'm also quite sure their "review" of him will hold for them just as much inspiration, pride and admiration as it was for me in the time that I knew him.
Some parents will swear that they know their kid better than anyone else, a claim that tends to lose more of its truth as a child learns to play different roles in their increasing interpersonal relationships, and their parents are left with the humbling thought that who they once knew isn't as important sometimes as who they seldom get to see. In the case of my son, Phoenix, I can only speak of his first few formative years, though those stories my well yield some truths about a beautiful personality that will find a challenge blossoming amidst a garden of dead shrubs. I can tell you stories of a bright eyed, energetic boy practically from birth, and a very humble, shy kid who never really got other people's obsession with his appearance. He saved his beaming and gloating for life - an attribute that made not just parenthood but home life much better than it would have been. It was quite rare when I caught Phoenix on a downer for very long, and it was indeed often when he would pull me out of my own funks with his pranks and sense of mischief. His strength and individuality: both an inspiration to me. I would have done well to have lived through the domestic ordeal we were stuck in half as well as he did, always finding ways to break silent tension, and not with the neurotic reactive behavior patterns that most kids exhibit in those unfortunate situations. He genuinely seemed impervious (at least externally) to a quarreling house where everyone hated everyone else but him, which always made everyone else look much more ignorant than they already were, of course. His stubbornness was more of an advantage than an obstacle to me as a parent, as everyone who wanted to change his ways (or, worse, yell at him) was met with a silent, and sometimes silly, defiance. I heard a story recently where his grandfather wanted to ban Phoenix from his house because the boy wouldn't shake his hand or sit in his lap. His mother took her dad's side, of course. But Phoenix takes his own side. I know this side very well, it inspires the hell out of me even though he and I no longer know each other. This may be another quality that atrophies over the years that he faces, or maybe I will always know an amazing quality of his that will remain with him forever, as he rises from the ashes of whatever he leaves behind. Surely with the passing of time, posterity may well have more to say than will I about Phoenix. But I'm also quite sure their "review" of him will hold for them just as much inspiration, pride and admiration as it was for me in the time that I knew him.