Talks, walks with teen are really great gifts
Every so often my 15-year-old daughter takes me for a walk.
Sometimes it's her idea. I get home from work or take a break from some weekend job and find she is standing next to me with a questioning look on her face that tells me something is on her mind before she even says a word.
Sometimes it's my idea. My fatherly intuition sends me a yellow alert that something is going on and one of our walk and talks would be a good idea. I'm not always right, but I've also learned that it is better to be safe than sorry.
We have a couple of routes with common characteristics of little traffic, few distractions and no destination other than to eventually wind up back home.
Our outings can last from 15 minutes to as long as an hour. And we can walk at a pretty good clip or a casual stroll -- I let my daughter set the distance and pace.
Oh, and no iPods, MP3 players, Walkmans or cell phone conversations allowed. It is just us.
It would take more space than I've got here to catalog the contents of our conversations. We have discussed everything from family issues to friendship angst to the meaning of life.
Sometimes I don't do much but listen and try hard not to interject my opinions or advice. Other times it is my opinions and advice that she is asking for, and we now have an agreement that she needs to do just that -- ask before I interject my own ideas.
I think, more often than not, my daughter is just looking for the opportunity to put her thoughts into words and share them with someone who cares enough to simply listen.
There really is something almost magical about having somebody else give us their undivided attention -- listen to us carefully, empathetically, and non-judgmentally -- and not try to tell us what to do.
It is even more special when it comes from a parent.
I think we parents all know this intuitively because it is what we wanted from our parents when we were teenagers. Too often, we forget that in our desire to protect, direct or "fix" our own kids. More often than not, they just need us to be there for them while they sort it out on their own.
Now, I will confess, I'm not always in the mood for our excursions. When I am really tired and am just looking forward to getting home and staying home, or when I am absorbed in some project, I have to really will myself to say "yes" to my daughter's request.
On the other hand, I have never regretted going on one of our walks, and usually been sorry if I have declined her invitation.
I can easily look ahead to when my youngest will be off to encounter life on her own. It's really not that far away. And I expect that one of the cherished rituals we will recreate when she comes home to visit will be our walks.
Though these times together may now seem like something I give to her, in reality, they are and, I hope, will continue to be wonderful gifts that she gives to me.