Growing Pains

Dear Dad,

On Sunday, G3 went to a birthday party that he had been looking forward to. Sadly, instead of it being the fun and exciting time he expected, he ended up learning a very difficult, but very valuable life lesson. The party was for one of the boys who goes to his former Taekwondo school. We knew there would be a couple of other kids from the school at the party, kids G3 once considered his friends. When they arrived, G3 eagerly said hello, but they both snubbed him. Yes, they said hi, but in clipped tones with their chins high and their eyes averted. They then moved on to chat with other kids, as if G3 weren’t even there.

If that wasn’t painful enough, another girl from his former school was also invited, and when she walked into the party and saw him, she gave him a look full of hatred and distain. The look had the desired effect, and I could see the wounded expression on G3’s face. 

That girl’s presence, along with G3’s — I guess I need to add the adjective ‘former’ — friends meant that the entire sparring team was present. When G3 left the school, he made it clear that he didn’t want to leave the sparring team, that he wanted to honor his commitment to his teammates. But at the party, as they were putting on harnesses for the rock climbing wall, the girl who gave him the deadly look said, “Look, it’s our sparring team, plus one.” G3 said nothing, but the girl wouldn’t let it rest there. She marched right up to him and said, “We discussed it, all of us, and we don’t want you on the team anymore.” 

Crushed. There is no other word that would appropriately describe G3’s reaction. The girl meant to hurt G3 and she succeeded. Oh, kids can be so cruel, especially middle school girls. (I should know. It seems like only yesterday I was in middle school and being tormented by my classmates.) But G3 turned away from her and went off by himself to enjoy the climbing wall. He had been looking forward to it, so why shouldn’t he have fun, even if his former teammates intended to shun him?

During the car ride home, G3 was sad. Making the decision to leave his school to attend one that would provide new challenges, wasn’t easy. Mostly, he didn’t want to leave his friends behind, and now to be so quickly cast aside by some of them was awful. I told him that if they were so quick to dismiss him simply because he wanted to better himself, then they were never his friends to begin with. It’s not an easy lesson. So often, I’ve been deceived by friendships. I’ve called people friend only to have them turn on me because they disliked something I said or did. Perhaps that’s why I’m now so hesitant to actually befriend anyone. Remember the last friend who hurt me? It was during the last few months you were alive. I called you then practically in tears because someone I considered a good friend had accused me of plagiarizing her work. I had written a micro essay about hiking Mt. Kilimanjaro. My second to last paragraph ended with, “And then I stood up.” My friend — or I guess I should say, my former friend — had published a book in which the last sentence of her final essay was something similar. When she saw that my essay had been published in an online journal, she sent me a message insisting that I contact the publisher to change that one sentence. I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. The sentence was so bland. There was nothing special about it. I simply stated what I did. And yet, she deemed that plagiarizing. It ended our friendship. I think that was the last published piece of mine you ever read. I never spoke to my friend again. Or more telling, she never spoke to me. The pain is still there. As a result, part of me started to shut down even before you died. What’s the point of opening yourself to friendship, if you’re only going to get hurt because of it?

I don’t want G3 to stop making friends. But I do want him to be aware that there are different kinds of friends. There are the people that are fun to hang out with and share stories with. But then there are the real friends, the people who will care about you and support you through the more difficult times of your life. If a friend can’t be there for you, if a friend can’t applaud you for making the tough choices to better yourself, if a friend can’t be happy for you, then, well, it’s best to move on. 

Also, as far as the team sparring goes, in the end it won’t be G3 who is hurt by their pettiness. Without him, they have no team. Or maybe they will coax someone else into joining, but considering G3 was the best one in his age group in the school, their team will take a hit (pun intended) without him. And this way, if he trains hard and improves at his new school, and if they have an opening on one of their teams next year, perhaps G3 will be ready to fill it. It’ll be a better team, with a greater chance of success. And if a spot doesn’t open, it just means he has more time to focus on doing better in his individual events.  

But as gut wrenching an experience as G3 had Sunday afternoon, it would have been a billion times worse had it not occurred on the heels of an otherwise fantastic, fulfilling, and fun weekend. On Saturday, G3 participated in an in-school tournament at his new Taekwondo school. As all in-school tournaments are, it was going to be small, and less competitive than the bigger venues that draw competitors from multiple states. But G3 really wanted to do well to prove himself to his new instructors. He put a great deal of pressure on himself — he gets that from me. (I can almost see you laughing at the similarity.) Anyway, he performed beautifully. His instructors — in the last two weeks — had pointed out a few things he could do to improve his form. When he competed, he successfully  incorporated the changes they advised him to make. The result: first place in forms. He couldn’t have been happier. One of his instructors even complimented him for doing a good job, but then she added there were still things she wanted to fix. We all smiled. After all, that’s what we wanted, someone to clean up the little things that might in the end result in higher scores in bigger tournaments. 

G3 also placed first in weapons. He’s still in the process of learning and perfecting a new — a second degree — weapon form, so he performed the one he knows, the one he did well with up until last month. Once again he did well enough that a judge from the other ring went over to tell him he did a good job. He beamed at the compliment. In fact, when he was doing his weapon form, he captured everyone’s attention. They all stopped what they were doing to watch. I think it renewed some of the confidence he had lost in the lost couple of tournaments. And I got the feeling you were definitely with him in spirit.

As for sparring, he lost the first round. But hey, that’s why we’re there, so that he can improve and become better. He left his former school to reach new heights. And his loss proves that in this new school he has plenty of room to grow and become better.

On Sunday morning, before the party, we met his instructors and some fellow students at the Delaware Water Gap for a Black Belt hike up Mt. Tammany. You know me, I’m always up for a hike, and G3 wanted to go so that he could better get to know some of the other kids in his class. And he did. There were two kids there that he talked to. I’m glad to see that he is starting to connect with the kids. Knowing how poorly his former classmates treated him, these new connections are that much more important and valuable. G3 most enjoyed the climb up the rock wall. The little mountain goat inside of him certainly came through. He got up that wall as if he were walking on flat ground. Unfortunately, we had to turn back early so that we could get to that birthday party. But I’m still glad we went. Maybe next year we can complete the hike with everyone else.

After dinner on Sunday night, we finally had time to light the advent wreath and sing Christmas carols. I miss you so much when we sing. I even miss you making fun of me for singing so poorly. When it was my turn to chose a song, I picked “Silent Night,” your favorite. But I couldn’t finish singing. Thinking of you, I got too choked up towards the end and I feared if I didn’t stop singing I’d start crying.

Things feel like they are getting harder. Most mornings I wake up and feel like I can’t breathe. My body is heavy, and I just want to roll over and go back to sleep. But I can’t. I have to teach. G3 needs to learn. But it feels as if homeschool is no longer a productive endeavor. G3 is bored and he complains that I work him too hard. Maybe I do. Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe I’m afraid that if I pull back he won’t be able to keep up when he does eventually return to real school. And it doesn’t help that I feel like I’m stuck in life and unproductive because I’m not working — I’m not holding my own and pulling in a salary. It’s exhausting to have spent so much of my life working hard, setting goals, and never achieving them. How can I continue to tell G3 that anything is possible if only he works hard and stays committed? Sometimes I feel like I’m lying to him, because hard work — at least for me — ends mostly in disappointment. 

But perhaps I should not despair. A friend of mine reminded me that next year is the Year of the Tiger, my year. Last time it was the Year of the Tiger, I did have an exciting life changing experience. Okay, G3 was born about six weeks before the tiger, but close enough. His first year was mostly a tiger year even, though he is technically an ox. I’ll channel the positive. This year, 2022, the Year of the Tiger will be one of favorable change. Any help you can offer, from wherever you are, would be greatly appreciated.

I miss you! 

PS — I had a dream about you last night. I was at a rustic looking indoor amusement park with G3. He had just gotten on a roller coaster and I went over to the bench where Nona was waiting for me. As I approached, I noticed you standing there, your back to me. You were wearing your dark grey long sleeve waffle tee shirt and jeans. I ran over to make sure it was really you. When you noticed me you smiled and spread your arms. I fell into them and you gave me a hug. I guess you knew I needed one.

Note: I wanted to post this on Monday, but we haven’t had wifi for two days.