Relics

The world is constantly changing. And at some point, a person stops flowing with the times. Your current dries up. You’re completely unaware of when this happens, but somewhere along the line, it does.

Every generation comes with its own difficulties, and no matter how much you want to relate to your kids, there will always be differences. Sometimes, those differences are so massive that the void can rip a person apart. But other times—and I hope this will be our case—they’re just things to laugh about. Oh, Dad. People don’t say that anymore. Something like that. Hopefully.

I can’t begin to imagine I’ll understand everything you’re going through. All I want you to know is that I’ll keep an open mind, an open heart, and open ears. I’ll give you both my time and my understanding. Because I don’t want you to think of me as a relic. I don’t want you to bury me and forget about me. I don’t want you telling your friends that I’d never understand what you’re going through. I want you to come to me, and I want you to be patient with me, just as I’ll be patient with you.

When the time comes for you to have kids of your own (if you want to), I hope you’ll see that being a parent can mean being a friend. Not always a friend, not a certain type of friend, but a friend nonetheless. Some people don’t believe they can be friends with their parents, and I think that’s bullshit. I agree I can’t always be your friend. There’s a line to be drawn. You’ll need to know I’m a parent first. But when it comes to snacks and movies, books and music, trips and adventures, or whatever else you want, I’ll always want to tag along and be part of it.

I never really went through the embarrassed-of-my-parents phase like so many of my friends did. I was always happy to have them around, and I hope you’ll always want me around too.

(I promise not to invade your space... too much.)

Come to me. Don’t let me become a relic.