Fly Away from Here
“We’ll just fly away from here
Our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere”
-- Aerosmith
My younger son flew down to visit his father today. It was the first time he flew on an airplane all by himself.
As he is now 15, he is old enough to fly all by himself, and not as an “unaccompanied minor.” His older brother was not accompanying him on this trip, as he has a summer job here, so my younger son was “on his own,” on his own. I was a bit leery of letting him go through those security gates all by himself and head off to the train and then to those distant gates. (Never mind that the Pittsburgh International Airport is really not all that big!)
The airline probably would have let me get a gate pass and accompany him (albeit for a fee! – I couldn’t get over that I actually had to pay money for my son to check even ONE suitcase!!!), but he said he felt fine doing it by himself. I did make him call me on his cell phone when he reached the gate, and then again as they were actually boarding the plane so I would know they were taking off on time. So, I could then call his father on the other end and let him know that he was on his way, as scheduled. Even though the Departures board kept telling me that his flight was “On Time.”
I think my son realized that these phone check-ins were more for my benefit than for his own, so he didn’t argue. But I think he didn’t really mind, either. Next time, he probably won’t want to do this. This morning, both of us might have been thinking about the time we were all at the departure gate together and I let him go to the bathroom all by himself and he got lost and almost missed our flight!
Of course, I also had my son call me when he reached his destination and got picked up by his dad. Am I a paranoid, worrywart parent? Probably. I mean, his flight was only about an hour or so, and he didn’t even have to switch planes or anything. Still, I think doing anything like this for the first time, alone, as a “grown up,” is a bit nerve-wracking, a rite of passage, and once you complete it, you gain more confidence. I think that works both ways, too, for the parent who needs to let go as well as the kid who yearns to be more independent.
In the past, my younger son had always flown either with me or his dad, or with his older brother. For a while, they were both “unaccompanied minors,” and then for a while my older son was old enough to accompany my younger son as his “guardian.” Interesting that when my older son was my current son’s age, I had no qualms about him being in charge of not only himself but his younger brother as well. Although I have to say, my older son has never had the occasion to fly by himself yet, even though he is older. So, in this case, the younger son is doing something that the older son has not yet done.
This is a strange phenomenon with siblings of different ages. In some respects, I think my older son is much older than my younger son at that same age, and my older son gets put in charge and held responsible for not only himself but his younger brother, too. In other respects, I tend to let my younger son do some things earlier than I did my older son, maybe because my older son is already doing them and my younger son wants to, too, and I can’t think of a good reason to say no. Or sometimes just because it ends up that way.
So, the older son gets put in charge more often at a younger age and responsible for the well-being of others, while the younger son gets to do certain activities (that aren’t age-dictated by law) at an earlier age than the older son. I am sure this must have some effect on how one develops as an individual.
What really stunned me this morning was how genuinely sad I felt after my son disappeared through those security gates. Seriously, there were a few times this morning I almost had to fight back tears! As I sat alone in the airport terminal waiting for his call, as I kept checking the Departures board to make sure his flight was still “On Time,” as I was driving out of the short term parking lot and leaving the airport. I was sad to see him go, yes. Although I certainly want him to spend time with his dad and have fun. I mean, in an intellectual, adult sense, anyway. Maybe I am also a bit sad that he is growing up and away from me. And maybe I am just lonely without him. He is a funny, lively, active, at times kind and generous, at times crabby and annoying as hell kind of guy. You know when he is there, and you really know when he is not.
It is true; when my kids are not with me I feel out of sorts, like all is not right with the world. Maybe this is natural. It didn’t bother me when each of them went on their 8th grade class trips to Washington, DC. Or to band camps or football camps. I didn’t even care that I had no way to contact them or talk with them on these occasions. I knew they were having fun and doing things they wanted to do. But when they go away for longer periods of time, holiday breaks or summer vacations, I have to turn a part of myself off. Because I start to feel sad, and then I feel guilty that I feel sad.
My sons have never really been apart from each other for any real length of time before, either. Only a few days or a week at most when one or the other was on a trip or at camp. This summer my younger son will be gone for well over a month. It will be interesting to see how his older brother copes, if he will miss his younger brother. And vice versa. My younger son confided to me in the car on the way to the airport that he was surprised by the big bear hug his older brother gave him, saying good bye. He said, “Maybe he’s going to miss me!”
Life flies by quickly, and within a few years both of my sons will be leaving home for good – off to college, careers, their own adult lives. That seems so strange to me. Good, of course, because isn’t that what we as parents are trying to prepare them for? But at the same time, sad. I am going to miss them. It was only yesterday that they were babies and toddlers and little boys who played with action figures and Legos. Now they are young men, taller and bigger than me, with facial hair and deep voices, and a desire to explore the world and discover who they are. These are all good things. Afterall, our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere.
Our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere”
-- Aerosmith
My younger son flew down to visit his father today. It was the first time he flew on an airplane all by himself.
As he is now 15, he is old enough to fly all by himself, and not as an “unaccompanied minor.” His older brother was not accompanying him on this trip, as he has a summer job here, so my younger son was “on his own,” on his own. I was a bit leery of letting him go through those security gates all by himself and head off to the train and then to those distant gates. (Never mind that the Pittsburgh International Airport is really not all that big!)
The airline probably would have let me get a gate pass and accompany him (albeit for a fee! – I couldn’t get over that I actually had to pay money for my son to check even ONE suitcase!!!), but he said he felt fine doing it by himself. I did make him call me on his cell phone when he reached the gate, and then again as they were actually boarding the plane so I would know they were taking off on time. So, I could then call his father on the other end and let him know that he was on his way, as scheduled. Even though the Departures board kept telling me that his flight was “On Time.”
I think my son realized that these phone check-ins were more for my benefit than for his own, so he didn’t argue. But I think he didn’t really mind, either. Next time, he probably won’t want to do this. This morning, both of us might have been thinking about the time we were all at the departure gate together and I let him go to the bathroom all by himself and he got lost and almost missed our flight!
Of course, I also had my son call me when he reached his destination and got picked up by his dad. Am I a paranoid, worrywart parent? Probably. I mean, his flight was only about an hour or so, and he didn’t even have to switch planes or anything. Still, I think doing anything like this for the first time, alone, as a “grown up,” is a bit nerve-wracking, a rite of passage, and once you complete it, you gain more confidence. I think that works both ways, too, for the parent who needs to let go as well as the kid who yearns to be more independent.
In the past, my younger son had always flown either with me or his dad, or with his older brother. For a while, they were both “unaccompanied minors,” and then for a while my older son was old enough to accompany my younger son as his “guardian.” Interesting that when my older son was my current son’s age, I had no qualms about him being in charge of not only himself but his younger brother as well. Although I have to say, my older son has never had the occasion to fly by himself yet, even though he is older. So, in this case, the younger son is doing something that the older son has not yet done.
This is a strange phenomenon with siblings of different ages. In some respects, I think my older son is much older than my younger son at that same age, and my older son gets put in charge and held responsible for not only himself but his younger brother, too. In other respects, I tend to let my younger son do some things earlier than I did my older son, maybe because my older son is already doing them and my younger son wants to, too, and I can’t think of a good reason to say no. Or sometimes just because it ends up that way.
So, the older son gets put in charge more often at a younger age and responsible for the well-being of others, while the younger son gets to do certain activities (that aren’t age-dictated by law) at an earlier age than the older son. I am sure this must have some effect on how one develops as an individual.
What really stunned me this morning was how genuinely sad I felt after my son disappeared through those security gates. Seriously, there were a few times this morning I almost had to fight back tears! As I sat alone in the airport terminal waiting for his call, as I kept checking the Departures board to make sure his flight was still “On Time,” as I was driving out of the short term parking lot and leaving the airport. I was sad to see him go, yes. Although I certainly want him to spend time with his dad and have fun. I mean, in an intellectual, adult sense, anyway. Maybe I am also a bit sad that he is growing up and away from me. And maybe I am just lonely without him. He is a funny, lively, active, at times kind and generous, at times crabby and annoying as hell kind of guy. You know when he is there, and you really know when he is not.
It is true; when my kids are not with me I feel out of sorts, like all is not right with the world. Maybe this is natural. It didn’t bother me when each of them went on their 8th grade class trips to Washington, DC. Or to band camps or football camps. I didn’t even care that I had no way to contact them or talk with them on these occasions. I knew they were having fun and doing things they wanted to do. But when they go away for longer periods of time, holiday breaks or summer vacations, I have to turn a part of myself off. Because I start to feel sad, and then I feel guilty that I feel sad.
My sons have never really been apart from each other for any real length of time before, either. Only a few days or a week at most when one or the other was on a trip or at camp. This summer my younger son will be gone for well over a month. It will be interesting to see how his older brother copes, if he will miss his younger brother. And vice versa. My younger son confided to me in the car on the way to the airport that he was surprised by the big bear hug his older brother gave him, saying good bye. He said, “Maybe he’s going to miss me!”
Life flies by quickly, and within a few years both of my sons will be leaving home for good – off to college, careers, their own adult lives. That seems so strange to me. Good, of course, because isn’t that what we as parents are trying to prepare them for? But at the same time, sad. I am going to miss them. It was only yesterday that they were babies and toddlers and little boys who played with action figures and Legos. Now they are young men, taller and bigger than me, with facial hair and deep voices, and a desire to explore the world and discover who they are. These are all good things. Afterall, our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere.
posted by delta at 3:45 PM
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