I wasn't sure if this should be a blog post or a facebook note. Oh the decision of a modern world take a toll upon a modern girl!

This week, the class of 2011 graduated, my son up to the senior class.  Yes, his class, the class of 2012 is next. He is going to start his adventure. It is the summer of his 17th year and it brings me back down memory lane.

Funny how things trigger thoughts and emotions. This past week I traveled  with my exchange student to the far north side of Chicago so she could take a particular language test.  With little to do I meandered through the neighborhood.  Not many stores or much to do so I continued to walk, vaguely remembering the area.  That is when I stumbled upon the strip on Lincoln Avenue. This wasn't just any strip, it was the motel strip. And they just weren't any motels, they were the  no tell motels of my generation and I am sure a few generations before me as well!  The proprietors didn't care much about identification or the law, they cared about the $30 and the contents of their room.   Ahhh the days for the motel parties!  Rent the room, tell your friends, have them bring the beer and instant trouble!  There were other things that happened on the strip, but those are stories (maybe/maybe not) for other times. 

You see this is the story of the summer of 17.  The summer of MY 17,  as I remember it, and how it compares with the summer of 17 that my teen aged son is entering.

Hotel parties were a big thing, but the bigger thing was life.  Graduating at the age of 17 seems incidental.  17, 18, what does it matter? Well it actually matters a great deal when you have to move out and get your own place.  I was working the graveyard shift at a self service grocery store in the DE Paul area.  I wanted to move in with my boyfriend, be he had no intention of living with me. I felt a bit stuck. I wasn't sure if I could make it all on my own.  Rents weren't that high, but it wasn't like I had the best job in the world.

I remember the phone ringing one day. It was CG.  He was an acquaintance from high school.   I had known him from various parties, but mostly I seem to remember him during his brief stint as a hall monitor.  He was not the all monitor type.  He knew too much about music.  He knew too much about the party scene. He wasn't involved in school clubs or activities or sports.   Like I said, not the hall monitor type.
He had heard I was looking to move out.  How he heard in a school of 4000 people, I am not quite sure.  I don't think I ever asked.  I do recall he said he had a house full of furniture, as his mom was moving out of state.  He would be willing to share a place with me,  split the expenses and bring a sofa!

I made about 15 phone calls.  Some places were already gone.  Others were not where I wanted to be.  Some needed first, last, and security, up front! Not good for us.


When I called on the place on Washtenaw, I remember asking to see the unit. I remember finding the best outfit I had.  I wore a plaid skirt and a white blouse.  I tried not to look 17.  Just in case I did look 17, I had with me photo copied information from the library regarding the law of an emancipated minors and housing.  Not that I was emancipated, but just in case it was brought up, I figured it might scare the landlord.   There was no need.  I think he was excited to see some one with a job interested.  Granted, there was a lot I dint notice.  I didn't notice the mice holes, I didn't notice the neighbor's moved from our place to the place across the hall and I didn't notice the locks had not been changed.  What I did notice is it was large, a train ride away from work and affordable.   CG looked the place over and he agreed it would work.  I was 17 and I had an apartment in the city of Chicago.

Flash forward about 25 years and you will see a 17 year old young man.  He has a good head on his shoulders.  He doesn't drink or smoke.  He isn't a straight A student, but he knows his way around the school and is in the top 10% of his class. He plays guitar, piano and clarinet. He has a job.  His room is a mess and he hates when he is wrong or receives any type of criticism. He is my son.

I have seen this young man overcome situations I don't think I ever could. A traumatic brain injury an full hearing loss at the age of 14 are the first things that come to mind.   He is strong and bright.  I am glad I raised him in a town about the size of my high school, but I worry that he is too innocent. I wonder if he could make it the way I had to.   I worry about what he will do in college, with work, with girls and with friends.  I pray he takes his music and studies more seriously and i thank God that he is here to disobey me.

Ecclesiastes says " What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.
Well when it comes to my son, I question that.  It is new to me. This life he lives. Knowing he will go to college. Knowing he has someone to fall back on.  It is odd to be the one he should count on. It is new, but its not bad and its not good, it's just different.
I will continue to reflect and encourage over this next year, his senior year.  I will write and cry and share my memories and my experiences.  Above I, I will pray. I pray that I have made good decisions with regards to my children.  I pray that God will  watch over them. I pray they will know joy and peace.  And I pray that God will be merciful when my nervous breakdown comes to pass.