Liam: My Son, My Hero

I enjoyed myself today. I started this afternoon at the movies with my 16 year old son (he invited me) and we giggled our way through The Simpson's Movie. From there it was on to Verizon to figure out why my phone had suddenly died and where he spent the waiting period playing with Chocolates and Blackberrys and calling friends from the cell phones hooked up to the wall. He is a delight and draws attention to himself, especially with his odd manner of dress, strip of long bleached hair running down the center of his scalp, multiple facial piercings and yellow highlighters in his gaged earlobes. We then moved a couple doors down to Coldstone for some amazingly decadent ice cream. Me? I love the Black Forest Dream: chocolate ice cream with cherries, brownie bits and chocolate syrup. Liam had cookie dough with a peanut butter cup mix-in served in a waffle bowl.

We bicker, laugh and make fun of one another when we're together; he brings out the playfulness in me. And he loves to get his mother sputtering while trying desperately to reassert her authority. Authority, yeah right. I am so grateful for our relationship; I have been afraid at times of losing him - raising a teenaged boy without the support and input of a father is challenging, to say the least. I fear he has gotten too much female input, feminine energy, wisdom, ideals and objectives. I frequently see his anger at having to grow up these past 7 years without a father, without a male role model, without having any man to turn to, to ask questions, advice, help. But, I believe in the perfection of All, including his father's untimely death.

Liam has taught me a lot. He has stood up to my limiting beliefs, my fears, my ignorance. I have many times allowed my own thinking to turn 180 degrees after listening to his perspective. While I take credit for teaching him to ask questions, to look for what is hidden, to investigate the unpopular course, he has taken my instruction and run right off the playing field with it. He has become my greatest mentor and I relish every opportunity that I am given to take off my "older, wiser" hat and listen with new ears and see with new eyes.

So, despite the parental failings I count when I am in the mood for self-deprecation, I know that I have managed to turn out a very capable, resourceful young man. I know that, although he is rebelling against society with his in-your-face physical appearance (I miss his beautiful natural hair and his handsome face unadorned with ugly pieces of metal), he has taken in much, if not all, of what I have taught him. I have a deep, unshakable belief that he will be successful, whatever that means to him. And it is this belief that allows me to accept him for who he is and look at him with eyes full of love and admiration even when others are shaking their heads at his outward appearance. I know him on the inside.