Change

Three years ago this month, maybe even this week, my relationship with Aaron was coming undone in a hurry. If I was holding on to the end of my rope, my grip was weaker than my will. The fears and suspicions of the summer were about to become the reality of the fall. Either a pessimist or a realist, by winter I projected, all hell would come down on Aaron.

The pictures of September '03 show what friends and family saw in Aaron -- a typical sixteen year old, high school junior, with some angst. When he showed his face, Aaron showed what he neeeded to show. I won't speak for Cathy and Patrick, but to me, my son was gone. Aaron's weakening body was overtaken by a power greater than him or me.

I didn't know better back then. When we don't know a better way, we go with what we know. Good advice wasn't what I was capable of accepting. Instead I envied the Dads who could boast "My son wouldn't do anything like that, 'cause he knows I'd kick his ass." Aaron had already proven to me that any "ass kicking" would not be coming from me. The fear of retaliation was not a mutual deterrent because for that to work, the arms have to be equal and both sides need to believe the other is capable of unleashing their power. I was the only one with that belief. But, that did not stop me from wanting to regain the power and authority.

My efforts were put into going with what I knew: Attack the person to fix the problem. Attack with whatever arms were available to me. The result of that strategy was to drive Aaron and me further apart and both of us further into self destruction.

For some reason God allowed just enough clarity for Cathy and me to make one rational decision just as I had given up. Aaron needed to be in a safe place, surrounded by professionals with experience we did not have. Maybe at this time Angels actually did pluck Aaron out of harms way and placed him in a place where people doing God's work could help him help himself.

Aaron learned a better way to cope and respond. Only Aaron could change Aaron. He learned that lesson before me. A year later I was still believing that I was changing Aaron by changing his environment. "Aaron needs to change, not me" was my mantra. With one more blessing, if not a miracle itself, Aaron used his new knowledge to point me in a new direction. With one unanticipated, matter of fact rebuke from "my son", Aaron sent me to a different environment. That day, at 17 1/2 Aaron had emotional maturity to a level any Dad would envy for himself.

I've prayed that I never forget that moment. It occured in our family-room in exactly the same spot where I first tried and failed at "ass kicking" parenting. The dent in the drywall was still visible that day. What had changed was Aaron. What was about to change was me. Within minutes, I joined Aaron doing my work on me.

For four months and 16 days Aaron and I experienced a beginning of a life of mutual respect. We both knew we each had changes to make -- and now we would work on our own changes instead of trying to change eachother. Aaron died a better man, doing right things. Before he died, I had just enough change and was surrounded by better people just enough to survive.

When I hear familiar stories of Fathers and Sons using assured-mutual-destruction strategies, I wish Aaron and I could sit down with father and son. Dad's don't hate their sons; they fear what took their sons from them. Sons don't hate their Dads; they fear becoming their Dads. When we look at ourselves, we can see what the other sees, and that's the view that makes the difference.

Aaron would say- Peace

"I don't care what you do or where you go, but you have to go somewhere and do something, because you're killing (people)"