Teenage Wasteland

I have never been a parent of a teenager before, and it is often hard to realize that your little girl has become one. Since I am divorced, I don't witness every day stuff, just every third day, and I am the athletic director, so that's what I see. Sure, I am in tune on the grades, and the straight A's my 14 year old got in her first semester at the intimidating Science and Technology Magnet High School, but I am better suited to letting you know that she made JV Volleyball and closed out a game with 7 straight service winners to help her team to victory. Or that she laced a line drive to right field to drive in the only runs of a bad softball loss. And that she had a brilliant throw from center field that had the chick dead to rights at third, but the third baseman bungled the throw. Or that she has a hitch in her swing that's making her strike out, or that she's fielding the ball to the side at shortstop instead of getting in front of it, and needs to cut that out.

The emotional stuff, the teenage girl stuff, I never intended to do any of that. That's what mothers are for, the female stuff.

But I found myself in a situation where my little girl was crying for no apparent reason, and would not talk to me. This had gone on for hours at her mom's house on a Sunday afternoon, and I was only there to drop off some things she had forgotten at my place, and needed for the week ahead.

My first instinct was to "dad it up". You know the deal "what are you crying about, you want to hear something to cry about, listen to what i had to deal with as a kid", or "what the hell is this crybaby stuff, I'll give you something to cry about!"

But then i suddenly had a re-wind, to a week previous, where both of my kids in a social/game situation said that I was a hard rock to fall on rather than a soft pillow. And then I looked at my brilliant kid, with so much going for her, intellect, beauty, athleticism, and wit, crying for no reason, and unable to talk to me about it. So then I got scared. And I reacted.

Whether it was appropriate or not, time will tell. But I will never be burdened by the question "did I miss the signs?". I told her that she was the most important person in my life, and her mom's life. And, yes, Mom will sometimes be a pain in the ass, and Dad will sometimes be a pain in the ass, but we are only pains in the ass because you are the jewel of our existence. Your health and happiness is our number one concern. And I know of a beautiful young girl, happy, funny, talented, smart and loving who killed herself at the age of 15. Because she was sad about a boy. She was 15.

I don't know why I went there, perhaps the facebook tragedy was fresh in my mind, combined with my kids perspective that I am cold, but I went against my grain and got a tad aggressive with the discussion.

I gave her perspective. I want to see you play varsity sports. I want to visit you in college. I want to walk you down the aisle at your wedding. I want to make your kids do all kinds of things that will piss you and your husband off as a ridiculous grandpa. This is the perspective of life. Don't ever lose perspective over a stupid English assignment, or dumb ass boy, or turncoat bitchy best friend. Because that poor girl didn't just end her own life, she destroyed an entire family.

Not wanting to spend more than necessary on suicide, I quickly moved to the mantra that the most fun years of your life start with your senior year of high school, and last through college. But there are tons of yucks at every decade.

That is the big picture of a life well lived. An 80 to 90 to even a hundred year life. You are 14. Keep it all in perspective.

And she looked at me confused, but understanding at the same time. And seemed to be begging for some perspective for the perspective. And it fucking hit me, and forced me to abandon a quit job I was about to do.

I have been recently diagnosed with Meniere's disease, which is a chronic, untreatable condition that causes tinnitus, vertigo and periodic hearing loss. I have been taking piano lessons for about a year, and it's a robust program requiring significant practice. With the tinnitus, I can't stand to play, so I struggle to practice. My lessons are on Monday, and I was totally going to temporarily suspend my lessons because I have had tinnitus for two weeks, and it's annoying to practice, and I was going to quit for the month of December at least because it is too hard right now.

And I think I gave a brilliant superhero speech. Oh, crap, I forgot her deal. She wanted to quit school and hated everyone and everything because it all seemed so pointless. OK, now for my superhero speech.

"I was going to quit piano tomorrow. Why? Because my ears are screwed up and there's no cure, and it's just too hard to deal with when the ringing is very loud. But the big picture is that I really want to be able to play the piano well. And if i take a big picture view of things, sure, I will have weeks where it's a nightmare to practice, because every ping of the ivory will irritate some tinnitus, but there will be 90% of my days where that isn't the case. And the big picture, whole life view is I want to play the piano beautifully. That's 10-15 years away. So I will continue to work. Never forget that 10-15 years away will take work, but will be awesome."

Then I shot some silly string at her, and farted on her pillow. And then I left. Two hours later, I got a text message from her that said "I love you Daddy", and I have never been prouder as a man.