Another Son Turns 18

Years ago I would think about years such as 2009 and imagine what the year would be like. Little , Patrick, who promised me he would stay a little boy, would graduate high school in '09. Aaron would turn 22. My vision did not allow for sorrow of any kind. One night I had a dream about the present. Aaron and Patrick were living together. Both in a college somewhere in the west. Patrick was going to class. He carried two bags of books--one for him, one for Aaron. Aaron was not going to class---he had another place to be.

The dream and my old visions have more in common than my old vision and the new reality. The future is also as much an illusion as a dream. I see the future from what I know about the present. My recall of the past is limited to all my mind is willing to revisit and repackage for delivery to my senses. The past is absolutely an illusion.

There is no past. There is no future. The present is all there is. Today is a combination of past and future: this morning, this afternoon, this evening. Even today is nothing more than a word to define what is not this instant.

Today Patrick turns 18. He is the second of three young men in our family to reach 18 since my 18th birthday in 1977. Kristopher didn't make it. He died at 15 years and 11 months in '97. Aaron made it...for 3 1/2 days in '05. This is the first time in Patrick's life that he has not had his cousin's life or his brother's life to model and compare. "When Kris was my age he did ____." When Aaron was my age he did ____" Those comparison opportunities will end on the 21st for Patrick. New uncharted territory. He may feel more alone than ever today. His ship is shoving off and the boys he knows are being left behind. Their footprints end in the sand. From here on he walks where they never had the opportunity to go. I dream he will press on.

It's hard to live in sadness. Death of a sibliing and big cousin who was admired may leave a young man feeling a loss of his true self. Searching for something to fill the void may become a full time commitment. Life is worth living, but being committed to living may be a commitment Patrick is not sure he wants to make. Eighteen is a landmark birthday. Graduating high school is a landmark date. With sorrow and the illusion of indifference to life neither event is joyful. Both mark endings not beginnings to the person who does not see joy.

When Aaron turned 18 four years ago I wrote about him with hope. Optimism was in my heart. A handful of hours passed and reality changed my optimism to grief. With Patrick 18 today I'm watching. My prayers are not for good things for him--I don't believe God will do for people what they won't do for themselves, but my prayers are for Patrick to want peace in his heart and mind. I pray for understanding and wisdom. Knowing the price of wisdom can be painful, I'm still asking. It's all that's worth having.

Patrick has the present. I have the present. We may fear and dread the future and be saddened by the past in any present. Illusions are no more than what we are willing to let them be.

The past and future--let them be.