I am trying to catch up with posting some of the bunch of pictures that I recently found and/or otherwise obtained. Some of them were in my ex's storage, which had not been fully searched for many years. Some of the pictures, frankly, I thought were largely long gone. Other pictures were new to me. And still some more pictures were sent to me recently by members on the French side of the family. Again, I will be posting them in the near future.
For now, however, I am simply posting one picture. This one was long overdue. This is my son's junior year class picture, which seemed to take forever for him to finally get. Up until quite recently, they kept using his class picture from last year, for some unknown reason. But he eventually got it. Now it's here, and it seemed like a good idea to share it here.
This is only one picture, admittedly. But this is a new one, and a good one, at that. There will be more. But I felt that this one was worth sharing here.
Enjoy!
Junior Year High School (11th Grade), 2022 - 23:
All of this made it a confusing time, too. You are still a kid, yet in some ways, you almost are not, and are at least beginning to get exposed to more adult interests and pursuits, even if to a limited degree. Physically, it is an awkward age, because most of us no longer merely looked like kids, but we sure also could not pass as adults. And in most cases, although we might desire boyfriends or girlfriends, I think that most kids did not quite have one just yet, either. But the desire to be cool, to fit in, was always there, and I hardly think that I was alone in feeling that this pressure stepped up several notches and became not just noticeable, but unavoidable. Again, this seemed all to begin with the 7th grade.
It was stressful and sometimes annoying to go through, and it was all enough to make me nervous. Again, I hardly feel that this was just something unique to me.
Now, my son is there. Sure, times and circumstances have changed. A lot is different now, for the academic year 2018-19, then it was for academic year 1986-87, when I was in the 7th grade. That much is beyond debate, and I understand just how different things are. Also, my son's town had the middle school begin in the 5th grade, which meant that they lost recess in the 5th grade, which seemed entirely too early to me. But it also means that, at least in terms of being in the physical school and the setting, he is already quite familiar with it all.
Yet, it still makes me nervous, and in many respects. In fact, it makes me even more nervous now, as an adult. This is my son, after all! And while indeed things might be similar to when I went through the 7th grade, the differences these days feel even scarier. I mean, it is hard to even imagine the pressures of social media and texting and all of those comments that we hear horror stories about with the kids. They really are still too young to understand the full ramifications of some of the things that they will see and read and, let's face it, be called or accused of, and in some cases, surely, call others. Those pressures just sometimes feel...well, overwhelming, even to an adult. My son is 12 years old, still. It hardly seems possible that he could possibly be as old as he is already, when it felt like just yesterday that he was a baby, or that he was a toddler, or a 1st grader till reaching out for his teddy bear when I was tucking him in at night.
Such is life. It just keeps marching relentlessly on. And if sometimes, when you get older, you stop and scratch your head, and wonder just what in the hell happened, how time could have passed so damn quickly without your quite realizing it, the calendar does not lie. Sometimes, it feels literally unbelievable, but that is how it goes. Indeed, my son is now 12, and will be celebrating his 13th birthday in a couple of months. He's growing up, and doing so fast. Sometimes, it feels impossibly fast, and you just want it to slow down.
But time has other ideas, doesn't it?
Still, he is a good boy. He always has been, and I believe he always will be. Also, he is still my boy, little or not. Always has been, and always will be. Sure, it is scary, and my guess is that he feels a little bit scared, as well, even if he does not show it, and likely would not admit to it if he is. But the best thing - perhaps the only thing - is to keep doing what I am doing. To keep being the best parent, the best father, that I can be. To be there to listen to him, to watch and help him grow. Answer questions that he asks if and when I can, and offer what guidance I can offer. And always, always to love him and be there for him, come what may.
And also, to enjoy the ride. Enjoy the process of his growing up. I loved when he was a baby, and then a young child. I still relish the times when he shows that he is not yet that old, when he reveals that he still has a bit of that little boy in him.Those times are getting fewer and farther between, but I reserve the right to enjoy them. But it is also a pleasure to watch him grow, even if it sometimes seems a bit rushed, and feels tinged by a bit of sadness at times. He is growing, slowly but surely, and forming into a man. No, he is not there yet, but he is on his way. If his younger boyhood was the groundwork, then this is the beginning of the base structure. He is on his way.
And throughout his journey, I will try to be there for him, come what may.
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