John Y’s Musings from the Middle: Parenting & Basketball

Parenting can feel like a basketball game.

My 18 year old son leaves home this Tuesday for Centre College. I am as proud as can be…but also very sad.

The first 13 years of parenting come naturally and the rules and roles are easily understood. It’s easy for us to feel good about the job we are doing. The next 5 years, however, are a “different kettle of fish,” as they say–a muddled and awkward affair. And we are running out of parenting energy as the relationship changes from parent -child to adult–adult.

I can’t help feeling like I have been in a basketball game that was tied at half-time –where I held my own as a parent—but by the end of the third quarter became a blowout for the opposing team. And for the fourth quarter our job is just to finish the game without the other team running up the score.

And yet, in some bizarre twist of logic, I am wanting this game to go into overtime even though I know my son is dribbling out the final seconds of the clock and I am not trying to steal or foul since it won’t matter.

And when the clock runs out he won’t throw the ball triumphantly into the stands but rather, like a gentleman, let the ball dribble itself for a few seconds before rolling away as he walks off the court.

And I will stay standing on the court looking up at the scoreboard and trying not to cry.