Younger Nephew (C) is almost 16. He’s gone around the dark side of the moon a bit because, well, he’s almost 16. He’s withdrawn, monosyllabic, morose. Your basic teenage boy. Still, my sister has been worried about him, worried that Houston will not be able to bring him back from the dark side of the moon. I try to tell her, “He’ll come back. Elder Nephew came back. He’ll be back. It’s okay. It’s okay.” But she still worries. More so now.
When my sister and BIL sat the boys down last week and told them the grim diagnosis, Elder Nephew was visibly shaken. Younger Nephew was stoic and left the room in silence. About a half hour later, he knocked on their bedroom door. He sat on the edge of the bed with them.
“With everything that’s happening, I think I should quit football.”
Younger Nephew, who will only be a sophomore, was personally recruited by the high school football coach to play next year. He also plays basketball, which is kind of a weird combo, I guess, but he’s just a really good athlete. This summer is consumed with workouts and camps and practices and whatever really good high school athletes do with their summers. He loves football. Loves it.
But he continued.
“I mean, Brother is going away to college in the fall and someone needs to be around to take Piper where she needs to go and, besides, football is pretty expensive, so I just think I should quit.”
My sister and BIL protested vigorously, but Younger Nephew interrupted. He IS going through a stubborn phase. Or, well, maybe it’s not a phase.
“But I’m the one who’s playing, so I think I should decide if I want to play or not.”
My BIL spoke. There’s a reason why the man is a shrink.
“Well, C, if you want to quit because you don’t like it and don’t want to play, then, yes, I’d say it’s your decision. BUT if you want to quit because you think it will help me and your mom right now, then, no, it’s our decision.”
Younger Nephew was silent.
“Look, C, I want my life to go on as normally as possible. I like seeing my boys play sports. It makes me happy. And you love it. So I don’t want you to quit, okay?”
Younger Nephew responded slowly.
“Okaay.”
They both hugged him and thanked him and teared up a bit and watched as their boy — the one who’s gone around the dark side of the moon, you know — walked back to his room.
Oh, he’s coming back.
He never really left.
Such a kid. Such a kid.
Bawling. Just sitting here BAWLING and loving your nephew. And loving that his parents and his Auntie see how huge and beautiful and significant an action that was on his part. What a wonderful man is going to grow out of that currently stoic teen.
(continuing to pray and sending BIG mental hugs)
Selfless.
Your nephew reminds me of my little brother who was 20 when my mother was diagnosed with stomach cancer. While your nephew’s prior behavior is completely normal, my brother never exiting his teenage years (IMHO). That said, much like your nephew, my mother’s illness brought out the best in my brother and a new found maturity. I’m absolutely positive, like you, he would have grown up fine anyway, but it’s nice to know that his mother no longer has to worry about him.
There is a lot of love in your family… That will go a long way. Embarrassingly, I’ve only prayed twice for BIL, now he’s on my permanent prayer list along with two churches.
Awww! Do you get to say “I told you so” or what?? 🙂
Marisa — Thanks, hon. I think so, too.
Mrs. C — Maybe some day!
JFH — Thank you. We’ll take any prayers we can get, so no worries.
what a beautiful young man ! no matter how many times he’s gone around the dark side of the moon, he has the right stuff inside where it counts. still praying kiddo.
I’m just sitting here crying now. What a man that boy is.
No, you’re right. He never left. Sweet young man. Holding him in my heart.
He sounds like a bit of an old soul. God bless him (and keep him safe on that football field).
That family is blowing me away on the other side of the country.
I’ve gotta talk to facilities again about the air ducts. My office is way too dusty.
What a very thoughtful young man. I’m sure that this interaction meant more to his parents than he’ll ever know.