I got out for my walk today under clear skies of Thunder Bay blue. Walking is a time for thinking as well, when I’m not focussed on the icy sidewalks. I arrived here as an adventurous 24-year old, left on the heels of a mid-life crisis, and now am back as a grandmother with my oldest grandchild rapidly approaching his teen years. I’ve got a reasonable number of years logged.
Back in my own school years I don’t know how many times I heard, “school days are the best days of your life.” “They” said I would look back with fondness to happy memories of a carefree time. Well, I’m looking back now with 40+ years of perspective and it’s still not with a whole lot of fondness … and they certainly were not carefree. But I don’t think my teen-hood was an aberration. I think it was probably the norm, shaped perhaps by different events, but always to the same end … leading and pushing and sometimes dragging me to the adult I would become. Some happy, fun memories of course, but not a time I would ever choose to go back to. I think being a teenager is one of the most difficult things we do—can’t get around it, have to go through it, but, oh, the waters, they can be treacherous. More on this tomorrow …
