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This month I turned 50. And I will publish the second in my New Adult, Half-Breed Series – Sins of the Flesh.

I love writing about Amber. She’s not human, but as a college senior, she has all that hope and optimism, the liberal views that so many young people have. She’s about to start her life, to take her place in the adult world as a contributing member of society. It’s a magical point in a person’s life, and I hope I never grow too old to appreciate that.

My eldest turned eighteen this year. We drove the six hours this spring to tour his college choice – six hours of listening to rap music while he drove. Six hours that I finally got to hear what was happening in his life beyond ‘can you spot me a twenty until payday’ or ‘I’m going fishing this weekend with Justin. See you Sunday night’.

Yes, he can be a stubborn, argumentative butt-head (and he gets that from me), but he’s also incredibly generous.  I learned that he always stops to help someone change a tire on the side of the road, even if it makes him late. I learned that all those times he borrowed my Beast this winter, he was roaming around with jumper cables and tow ropes, helping random strangers. That when a high-school girl was in a ditch this winter, and everyone drove past her eager to get home or to work, he stopped.  His friend blocked traffic while he pushed her car out onto the road.

His grades suck. I’ve had more phone calls from school administration about his defiance and lack of respect than I care to admit. But I see a kind, loving man inside a frustrated teenager, pecking his way out like a chick from an egg.

He rails against injustice. He wants a job that makes people’s dreams come true, that brings them joy.  He’s studying to be an auto mechanic, but along with the inevitable break jobs and muffler replacements, he wants to build street rods – to take the ordinary and make it extraordinary, to take a plain old factory car and give it personality.  He wants people’s rides to be a reflection of themselves.

So much energy. So much confidence that one person can change the world. I hope he does. I hope our young never lose this enthusiasm that drives them to make a difference.  And I hope I never turn into that grumpy old woman who tells them otherwise and yells at them to get off my lawn.

So I write about Amber, and her hopes for the future keep me young just as my son’s do.

Comments(2)

  1. Being a parent is one of the toughest jobs ever, and there have been many times when I daydreamed about the joys of being an empty-nester LOL. I hope things are better at your daughter’s school and that in a few years you have one of those best-friend mom/daughter relationships.

    • Amanda Peters

    • 9 years ago

    What a heart felt post, I don’t mean to sound maudlin but in read this with a slight tear in my eye. My daughter is 12, I love her with all my heart but there are times when I feel like every time we talk, we end up yelling and arguing over silly things, I’m sure she thinks the ATM gives out free money. I don’t know how to feel when someone when she leaves to go to school, I’m glad she’s gone, then I feel guilty for being glad, as I said I love her but some times well sometimes I don’t like her very much. Yet whenever I met someone who knows my daughter, teachers other parents, lollipop ladies etc all have nothing but great things to say about her, how proud I should be of her, her manners are impeccable, she’s a smart little cookie, kind, generous has helped to make sure that the primary 1’s have settled into school, ensuring each one is happy, got someone to play with, one of these kid’s mum recently approached me to tell me how proud I should be of her, that despite the fact she was being bullied (something I new nothing about) she still made time in her day to ensure the younger children were happy or if they needed something she would do so with a smile. That night I asked her about the bullying, it turned out 2 girls in her class had been making life really hard for her following her home passing jibes and basically making everything that little bit harder. Why has she not come to me I asked, thinking of all the fights we had had lately, had I pushed her away, did she hate me? Instead she blew my socks off when she said she didn’t want to tell me as she didn’t want me to worry about her when I had enough going on (I have a lot of health problems).
    Like you I’m discovering that beneath the fighting and barbs despite feeling like a bottomless wallet, somehow she is learning and she is becoming this sweet, helpful, thoughtful teenager, I can only hope that whatever we are doing and she is learning it keeps happening and the glimmer we are seeing in that chipped egg breaks open into the adult I know she can be!

    I can understand your desire to write about this wonderful time in their lives and how Amber will keep you young!
    Good luck to your son in his endeavours to change the world one muffler at a time!!
    Amanda

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