In Charge

"Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can't help but ask myself how much I let the fear
Take the wheel and steer." - Incubus

Twenty is an age that is wasted on the twenty year old.

"Son, who is in charge of YOU?" I asked.

"Ummmm, you and dad?"

"NO! YOU! You're in charge of you!"

I give him this speech, then I spend the afternoon thinking too hard.

Lately, I don't feel "fine." I feel very far from "fine" actually.

I often compare parenthood to those guys at the circus who spin plates on sticks. Even if I were to get all those plates spinning in synch, I have to tap dance on gravel while doing my balancing act.

And the guy that I would call, the guy who would say to me, "Lollipop, who is in charge of YOU?" isn't there to call. My plates are wobbly. . .help! Boy, I miss him!

I was pretty proud of my little speech: "Son, we all have to make our own choices. Every day, every minute, you have to choose what you are going to do, how you are going to respond to the events in your life. You can choose to be a victim of your circumstances, or you can choose to deal with them. You are in the driver's seat."

It occurs to me that, even though he is not at the end of my phone line, my step-Dad is getting his message through - through me. I guess he's here after all.

So, technically, I need to take my own advice - but I'll hear it in my head as HIS voice.

Who's in charge of YOU?

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