Another Year Another Birthday...

Today Jim's son turns 15. Fifteen. I've been thinking of what I could say for days (truthfully for a few weeks). My mind has been a jumble. I want to say something.

Anything.

Everything.

And the only thing I can seem to continually think of are the things that the both of them will be missing out on. Sharing all those rights of passage at this age.

Jim teaching him to drive. The stories Jim told me about his truck and the things he did in it in high school... if he's anything like his father the world is in for a good time.

Dates and girls. Sure, some of that had started by the age of 11, but really aside from the summer crush/fling with that Georgia Peach (talk about a father in his proudest moment... the grin on Jim's face when he told me about that first summer love... and then the double standard when I asked if his reaction would be the same if it was his daughter at the same age... proud papa quickly became a protective papa).

Cars.  (Types, not mechanics, we all love him but we all know he wasn't the most mechanically inclined when it came to vehicles... although there was that one time when he tried to impress me by replacing the O2 sensor in my car... it got done but it wasn't pretty...)

Hunting. I get the picture updates from Jim's buddies of their hunts with their sons and while I'm happy for them, it pains me to think that those are memories both Jim and his son will never have the chance to experience together.

Life.

Because I can't seem to step outside of my own thoughts at the moment, I asked a friend what advice he would tell a boy (suddenly boy sounds so wrong, we all know he was forced to grow up fast) young man who was about to turn 15. I posed the "if you could go back and tell your 15 year old self anything, what would it be" question to him. At first I got the typical male answer, "I don't know."

And then, almost out of nowhere he replied with, "tell him to have a good sense of humor  about his age because it won't last forever and if you can laugh it off now it'll hurt less both now and later when awkward stuff happens."

You guys. I cried. Surprised?

This particular friend never had the chance to meet Jim but had the opportunity following his death to learn a lot about the man Jim was. And suddenly, it was like listening to Jim speak. I swear I could close my eyes and hear Jim as a father telling his son the same thing.

So, here's to you, young man. Words from a stranger through another stranger that one day, hopefully, you will find and know that your father is still there, still caring for you, still loving you.

Happy birthday ARD.