Nostalgia

Thirty years ago, I found myself living in the small town in Kentucky where I grew up.  I had moved in with my Dad and stepmom (in my opinion, she does not deserve a capitalized "s" of a proper noun because I have since discovered things that were... well, I'm not going to save that for another day).  I had not lived with my Dad for more than a few weeks at a time since my parents divorced when I was 10 and my Mom and I moved to the suburbs of Chicago and then to Northern Indiana (which I also consider home). 

It was a really difficult time.  Whether we like to admit it or not, it's a really difficult time for all kids that age.  It doesn't matter if you're legally considered an adult; you graduate from high school, you go off to college (sometimes in a new city and/or state), and things are changing soooooo fast.  You have to make new friends, usually after having the same friend group for possibly the whole of your K-12 school career.  When I was 18, moving in with my Dad and going to the college where he taught was like the aqueducts.  It was obvious.  I was going to do 2 years of community college, live at home, and then go off to a 4-year university, probably IU Bloomington (that was almost expected too, as both of my parents attended there).  

Looking back, I honestly don't know what I was expecting.  I wish I had my journals from that time so I could look back and read them.  At least with my blog, I can scroll back something like 20 years now and see how much I have changed (yet still remained the same base person).   I lost my journals over 20 years ago when a pipe burst, and they got destroyed.  I remember when I discovered them, soaking wet.  I was crushed because I had journals going back to the age of 12.   I would love to see what 18-year-old me wrote and see if I could get a little more insight into that time period.  

I was emotionally unregulated.  I had grown up living as an undiagnosed AuDHD kid, wanting constant stimulation with an emotionally immature and narcissistic mother who, being a child prodigy pianist, was probably undiagnosed herself to a certain degree.  My Mother ultimately did not know how to handle her sensory-seeking daughter who flitted from project to project and would dive deep into whatever I happened to be "into" at the time.  While my Dad would often allow my "flights of fancy" as he called it, my Mom was less enthusiastic.   My Mom was the disciplinarian who believed the worst in me.  In fact, my cousin (who was getting ready to graduate college by the time I was born), once relayed the story to me that my Mom thought I was on drugs.  This is absolutely laughable on so many levels and she told my Mom as much.  

For the record, I didn't take any kind of drugs during high school or college.  In fact, I didn't even try pot for the first time until I was 38-years-old and was on vacation in Las Vegas where recreational marijuana was legal.  Have I done pot since? Absolutely.  Is it a regular thing? Nope.  It's fun, but not something that I want to do all the time.  The worst thing I did in high school was drink a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler or have a glass of wine and that was actually with the permission of my very strict Mom.  

Ah, the ADHD is strong today.  I started writing this particular blog entry because my middle child just started college.  They are attending a local community college with plans to transfer in pursuit of their bachelor's degree in computer programming.  The middle child is a very different beast than I was.  They are quiet, reserved, definitely not sensory seaking as I was. None of my kids are, which is kind of weird to me.  That particular genetic trait is definitely muted with them and some days I don't understand it, but accept it because what else can I do?  I can't and don't want to change them. 

Yesterday, when I went to pick up my kiddo after their classes were done for the day (they have their permit, but not a license - none of my kids have really shown any interest in driving.  Apparently, that's something the younger generations aren't putting a priority on, which I could go on a tangent about but I've done enough of that today.), they climbed in the car, and as we're driving home they tell me about how some of their friends are going to South Carolina to visit another friend, who is in college there. 

My reaction was instantly one of "Ooh! Fun! Road trip!"  My kiddo thought it was nuts.  After a quick geography lesson because my child is as directionally challenged as my wife and me telling them that South Carolina was not that big of a drive, even if they were driving to Charleston.  I asked Siri how long it would take to drive to Charleston and the answer was 6 hours.  That was less time than it took me to drive from my Dad's house in KY to my Mom's house in IN, which took roughly 8 hours (more if I was stopping to pick up friends or, more than likely, visiting friends in other cities along the way... or sometimes not necessarily on the way). 

The conversation went that they thought it was irresponsible to spend money on a road trip.  I said that they were 18, would be 19 in a few weeks, and why not go?  I was actively trying to talk my kid into going on this trip.  I asked if they wanted to go, reiterated several times that they were totally allowed to go and they just weren't interested.  I then told them about my college experiences and how my first semester in college I spent more time on my other friends' campuses than my own.  Small town Kentucky could not keep this girl down.  

I then asked the question: "Do you not want to go because you don't want to spend the money or you're afraid to go?" They told me, several times, they didn't want to go.  While I tend to believe whatever my kids tell me as they have never really lied to me about the big stuff (c'mon, all kids lie. Hell, all adults lie whether they believe that themselves or not.).

I proceeded to tell my kiddo about all the adventures that I had during college.  Going to concerts, the great Ani Difranco weekend where I went from my campus in KY to Purdue (7 hours), to Indiananoplis (for the Ani concert, 2 hours from Purdue), to Terre Haute (2 hours), back to KY (4 hours), to St. Louis (4 hours) so we could go to Six Flags.  After Six Flags we drove back to KY to drop off my friend Jen who was road tripping with us, then to Purdue, Indianpolis, and finally I made the last 4 hour drive home to Kentucky.  The entire weekend was exhausting and fun and a great memory.  Somewhere in my house there is a picture of one of my best friends asleep as we are driving past the St. Louis Arch.  He totally missed it.  (He eventually did see the arch, but I think that was the first time he had been in St. Louis and sleeping as we passed it has always been hilarious to me.)   

My kiddo was flabbergasted.  The look on their face was one of bemusement, but they've lived with me for 18 years now so I don't think they were all that surprised. I explained that it was one of my best memories.  I told my Dad exactly what I was doing, where I was going, and I asked permission so it wasn't like I went about and said "Hey, I'm doing this..." I specifically went to my Dad and asked him if I could do it.  He asked me if I had money, I said yes, and I'm fairly sure that he was under the firm impression (because he was always under this impression) that I was going to do whatever I wanted anyway.  Finding out 30 years later that my car was lojacked, my Dad also had a very good sense of where I was at all times, so that probably helped.  

I told my kiddo that now is the time to make mistakes and have fun.  I told my kiddo that if they really wanted to go, then that was perfectly okay with me and even encouraged it because South Carolina is beautiful and they would probably have a lot of fun.  I further told them that if they were worried about the money aspect to not be worried about it as they had a credit card and were sitting on quite a bit of graduation money and that now was the time to have some fun before life and responsibility and work started rearing it's ugly head.  Ultimately, this kid is very very well behaved and has to be encouraged to have a little fun.  Adventure doesn't come easily for them and sometimes they need a kick in the pants.  Which I find hilarious considering the fact they were the GM for their DnD group in high school.  

I was raised that while I can have fun, I needed to "buckle down."  I was always being told that I had to "buckle down." Work first, play later.  That didn't work for me.  I was very much in the play a little, work a little camp.  Stuff always got done when it needed to get done, but my parents very much didn't like that. I have raised my kids that way.  My wife tells me that I'm the hardest working person she knows and is amazed that I still have time to chase after butterflies. She's trying to learn how to chase butterflies, too, without being beaten down by her inner managers.  Me? I tend to tell those "managers" to pound sand.  And then feel guilty about it later, but that's a talk between me and my therapist.  

I honestly don't know what to do.  I want my kiddo to go and explore and take a roadtrip with their friends, but that's not my call.  While I truly believe they're more responsible than I was at that age, I also know that they aren't as completely fearless as I was.  I also know the world is a very different and scarier place than it used to be.  Or, who knows, maybe it was just as scary and I'm just looking at it through a very different lens.  Part of me wants to push the issue.  When they were growing up the only roadtrips that were taken were to visit family and then once, about 10 years ago, we did our roadtrip from Indiana to Disney.  They've never had the experience of a random roadtrip on a weekend to go see a concert or go to an amusement park.  

I will ultimately let them decide and be okay with whatever they choose.  Either way, I'm having fun remembering the fun stuff.  Not so much remembering the turmoil of the inner workings of my mind and how sad I was that I no longer lived within walking distance of my friends, but hey - I'm going to enjoy the good feelings.  That's what nostalgia is all about, right?