Blue Guitar to Car to Adult
When he was in high school he had a guitar. It was blue. He really loved that guitar-it became part of his identity. He played it for a seminary talent show, he practiced on it at home, he played it for his friends.
After a couple years he was ready for a car. He had saved his money up and bought one. Of course, like his guitar, he had to practice with it (see if he could beat out the truck next to him at a stop light-I now know that if you take off fast this behavior can give net you an ‘exhibition driving’ ticket), he played with it for his friends (rides to games and events, meeting at the billiards place) and he bragged about nearly reaching the top end of the speedometer (on a county road designated 45 mph in the wee hours of the morning and how big that ticket was-over $700-which he barely finished monthly payments on when he went into the MTC).
This was during that same time period of his life when I was working full time and knowing he had a car as old as he was, that he needed a cell phone so we could come pick him up when (not if) his car ‘Babe’ (his ’83 Cougar was painted Navy blue with a peralized finish) would break down.
Funny side note on that cell phone. He was deep into communicating with friends, so between texting and calling he would go over his limits and minutes. I didn’t worry too much about it. He had to pay for the overage and he knew that if he couldn’t pay for it I would have his phone turned off until it was paid up-which I did have to do once.
Finally the financial pinch brought him back to reality and he felt it necessary to liquidate his assets to rectify his balance sheet. What do you think he let go? His blue guitar-he sold it, cashed it out-I think it was to a pawn shop. I was devastated. That was something that I saw would be an emotional outlet for him for the rest of his life. It was a talent I felt he would always be able to share with others. I felt quite devastated.
At the same time I realized that if he was going to grow to adult hood, I had to allow him to make his own choices and then to live with those consequences. I had to shut up and accept his decision.
He had not asked me what I thought he should do. He was still finding time and money to meet with friends to play pool. He was still finding money or at least planning how to make his car bigger, better, faster. I knew I had to back off and let him live his own life. I didn’t have to agree with his choices and decisions-and as long as they were not against gospel principles and standards-I had to keep my mouth shut. So I did.
So back to the blue guitar. He made a simple statement (the other day-a good 10 years after the fact)-which brought back the above flood of memories. He said, “I hated selling my guitar. I’ve always been sorry for that.”
They do grow up and maybe that was the right way to handle it. I didn’t bail him out. I let him stand on his own two feet.
After a couple years he was ready for a car. He had saved his money up and bought one. Of course, like his guitar, he had to practice with it (see if he could beat out the truck next to him at a stop light-I now know that if you take off fast this behavior can give net you an ‘exhibition driving’ ticket), he played with it for his friends (rides to games and events, meeting at the billiards place) and he bragged about nearly reaching the top end of the speedometer (on a county road designated 45 mph in the wee hours of the morning and how big that ticket was-over $700-which he barely finished monthly payments on when he went into the MTC).
This was during that same time period of his life when I was working full time and knowing he had a car as old as he was, that he needed a cell phone so we could come pick him up when (not if) his car ‘Babe’ (his ’83 Cougar was painted Navy blue with a peralized finish) would break down.
Funny side note on that cell phone. He was deep into communicating with friends, so between texting and calling he would go over his limits and minutes. I didn’t worry too much about it. He had to pay for the overage and he knew that if he couldn’t pay for it I would have his phone turned off until it was paid up-which I did have to do once.
Finally the financial pinch brought him back to reality and he felt it necessary to liquidate his assets to rectify his balance sheet. What do you think he let go? His blue guitar-he sold it, cashed it out-I think it was to a pawn shop. I was devastated. That was something that I saw would be an emotional outlet for him for the rest of his life. It was a talent I felt he would always be able to share with others. I felt quite devastated.
At the same time I realized that if he was going to grow to adult hood, I had to allow him to make his own choices and then to live with those consequences. I had to shut up and accept his decision.
He had not asked me what I thought he should do. He was still finding time and money to meet with friends to play pool. He was still finding money or at least planning how to make his car bigger, better, faster. I knew I had to back off and let him live his own life. I didn’t have to agree with his choices and decisions-and as long as they were not against gospel principles and standards-I had to keep my mouth shut. So I did.
So back to the blue guitar. He made a simple statement (the other day-a good 10 years after the fact)-which brought back the above flood of memories. He said, “I hated selling my guitar. I’ve always been sorry for that.”
They do grow up and maybe that was the right way to handle it. I didn’t bail him out. I let him stand on his own two feet.
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