Grateful

I just had the most amazing conversation with my children over dinner.

The A-man was telling me all about the assembly they had in school today. The guest speaker – now near 80 – is a Holocaust survivor. He was telling me all about her particular story – and how she escaped from the death train she had been on.
The A-man’s monologue actually went on for quite a while, and I could tell that he had really listened – and heard – what she had to say. I asked if the rest of the students had paid as close attention as he did – and he said the entire assembly hall was silent while she spoke.
I was very glad to hear this.

After the A-man finished telling me about his day, S took great pains in filling me in on his entire day – from class to class. I heard about the religion assignment they had in class today – “What are the qualities you want in a friend relationship, and what are the qualities you would look for in a love relationship.” Then he slowly took me through the remainder of his day.
The part that surprised me the most was when he got to the French portion of his day. Normally he just breezes over French and the entire fact that he has to take that subject. (He and the French teacher often butt heads.) But today, he was all full of talk of the play they are doing in their class.
S is going to be playing the part of the “Big Bad Wolf” in a French version of The Three Little Pigs. I got to hear a number of his lines – en français – and then what the literal translation means.
I think S understands French a lot more now than he ever has in the past.

After we finished eating, the boys helped clean up the kitchen. While I was washing the muffin tin, I realized just how lucky I am. A friend of mine – with same aged children – told me that her son never talks to her. He doesn’t talk about anything that happened in school, he doesn’t talk to her about what he did/thought. Nothing at all.
Her daughter talks to her a bit more, but from what I gather, it is not the same dialogue that often occurs between my sons and me. Another friend – Jazzy’s mom – has great conversations with her kids, so I am not really sure what is ‘typical’ teenage conversation, but from what I gather, I should be grateful that my boys talk to me about anything and everything.

Last week there were a few boys suspended from the high school – rumour has it that drugs were involved. The one boy that was suspended for the longest amount of time happens to be Hubby’s cousin’s child; a young man that was born just three weeks after the A-man. I used to baby-sit him when he was just over a year old. Considering the relationship we have with this young man and his parents, we were very shocked to hear this news. I can’t imagine how his parents would have taken that news if the rumours are true.
Again, makes me very grateful that my son’s talk to me. I don’t think for a moment that this means they will never do anything wrong – but I do realize that when the conversations stop, I will have reason to wonder why.