Random Thoughts About Age Eighteen

Well.

Seeing that you’re eighteen years old, you can do lots of stuff.

You can drive as many people around as you like (if they all have a seat, that is. But we’re youth group kids. We make them fit.)

You can buy cigarettes now. Why you’d want to is beyond me. But I won’t try to fathom your mind.

I’m not sure, but I think you might also have to register for the draft. That might just be if the legislation goes through, though.

You can vote.

You make all the adults around you feel old, which is always amusing.

Legally, you’re an adult.

And yet, “adult” is something much more different than “grown-up.” Adult, in my mind, is someone who is your age or older. Grown-ups are parents, relatives, teachers, etc: those people that little children see as security, as people that they have to depend on. You aren’t there yet, no matter how hard you try. (So nice of me to beat your pride to bits on your birthday.) It’s the maturity that you grow into when you get there. You don’t have it yet, but I’m not worried. You’ll find it, and find it quicker than most of the other people we know. (That’s also funny, I know. The fourteen year old kid who has trouble controlling his emotions and feelings is telling the adult about maturity.)

You’re not a grown-up yet, Mike. But you will be someday.

You’re still the person who I try to model myself after. We’ll miss you real good when you be gone. As the Vulcans say, “Live long and prosper.”

And by the way, a happy birthday to you.

Tim