The circle of life, one UNO game at a time

 

I played UNO with my 13-year-old son last night, and it was glorious.

Why?

He’s hit that sullen, moody, “Why do you keep asking me if there’s something wrong?!” stage of his teenaged life. Gone are the days where a little towheaded boy reached for my hand at the sweetest and most unexpected of times. Who insisted I sit and watch SpongeBob and Scooby Doo with him. All. Day. Long. And lightsaber battles. Mother of God. How many lightsaber battles did we have?!

Those precious days are gone. Now they’re filled with him dumping his backpack at the door as soon as he’s home from practice and heading to his room, to his sanctuary, to his “space” with only a quick “Hi” in between. Our quality time entails me driving him to school, to practice, to the store to buy new basketball shoes because it’s been three months and he’s already outgrown the old ones.

He feels awkward. And I know it. He feels weird. And I know it. He feels like the world loves him one minute and hates him the next.

And I know it.

We’ve all been there.

So last night when we played a simple card game, and we trash-talked each other and actually spent time together that didn’t include a car ride or a meal, it was glorious. When he laughed at me - with me - it was like a sun bursting from behind thick clouds on an overcast day, flooding me with the warmth of memories of days not-so-far gone by.

I know it’s only a short chapter in what I hope to be the long and cleverly entertaining novel of his life. And, all in all, he’s a happy kid. He’s generally a “water rolls off his back” kinda guy. But I’m keeping a watchful eye when he’s not looking, when he’s around his friends, on the field, at school. Praying that his personality is truly his, and not just a facade. A cover to hide his true feelings. Because that’s what many of us do.

And even though this time can be gut-wrenching, this period - like everything else in his youth - will be gone entirely too fast. Before I know it, it will be a wisp of smoke on the wind. And the memories will be all his dad and I have left.

It’s the circle of life. One UNO game at a time.