1 post tagged “15”

Oh, To Be 15 Again!

This past week I have driven my good friend's son to camp each day before I head off to work.

I have lived vicariously through him this past month as he enjoys his last summer before entering highschool this fall.  He has been my neighbor since he was 11 and I can't even begin to express the pride I feel at having watched him grow from a little boy to a young man.

He seem to be enthralled over the fact that I am from Boston, where his favorite rock band, Aerosmith, hails from.  For awhile there I think he thought Steven Tyler and I had been neighbors.  I was not his neighbor but I knew where he lived.  I told him about the time as a teenager my sister's boyfriend and I actually gained access to the property.  We didn't see Steven, or anyone else for that matter, but to my young friend here, it was the coolest thing ever.  He and I can sing along to the same 80s rock songs.

He is somewhere between a boy and a real teenager.  He is wearing a (faux) racoon skin hat above that he purchased on a recent vacation.  Even though he is 15, he is not too old to like things that most at his age may have swarn off at this point.  I found it a little comical to see this 6' tall child wearing this hat and walking around the airport as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

This past week he has been my company on the short drive to camp.  I love to hear of his adventures.  So far this week they have painted teddy bears, constructed a model car, have gone to the theater, and most recently, a water park.  I can feel his excitement in the morning.  Many mornings he has met me at the door dressed in his Pink Floyd concert t-shirt, sunglasses, shell necklace, and is balancing a back-pack full of whatever it is 15 year olds carrying around these day.  An Ipod is usually dangling from his ears and I can hear on some days Aerosmith, or The Killers.  This morning I glanced over and he was bobbing his head to the tunes while playing air guitar.  I couldn't help but smile.

One afternoon I stood in the front yard talking to his Mom like neighbors do, when their garage door went up.  All of a sudden an office chair missing it's back came rolling out of the driveway.  It's driver, of course, was my friend's son.  He was dressed in a crash helmet.  We both stopped talking and watched him zoom out into the street.  We live on a very quiet dead-end street so there is very little traffic.  I burst out laughing until I had tears in my eyes.  My friend just shook her head.

This past Christmas Eve he had an itch to make some cookies.  Donned in a santa hat he joined me in the kitchen as we created and decorated dozens of cookies; mostly gingerbread men, who thanks to my lack of kitchen coordination, ended up missing many a limb.  We sang along to the Christmas carols on the radio.  Ruben came in to join us and the three of us were laughing and singing, and were just plain giddy.  It is one of my favorite memories.

My friend's son, in my mind, will always be referred to as 'the little guy.'  It won't matter that he is 20 or 30.  In my mind he will always be the little boy that lives next door.  He was an usher at our wedding and with all the style and grace of someone much older than his 12 years at the time, he escorted our guests to their seats.  He was thrilled to wear a tuxedo.

There is still a ways to go before school is back in session.  In the days that I find myself craving  time at the beach, camping, watermelon, and my husband's sangria, I will continue to live vicariously through my young friend.  I will also say a prayer for him as he heads through the trying time of his teenage years.  It is in these moments that I realize how much time has gone by, and where I am not, and most likely won't be a parent in this lifetime, that I am truly thankful for all that I behold.