Last week my daughter told me that my grandson, fourteen years old, expressed an interest in having lunch with me. Because the family lives only a few miles away, I had a regular play day routine with my grandson when he was younger. When he started school and the wider world beckoned–sports and friends–we lost our regular time together. Here I must admit, I have never been good at playing the traditional grandfather role and show up for my grandson’s sports games. As a result, we have not seen each other much in the past five to seven years. I was happily surprised at the invitation to lunch.
The next day I texted the young man–preferred form of communication–with dates that worked for me. We settled on a date and time, but not the place to eat. I pondered if I should decide on the place to eat. I decided to first give him the choice, but be ready if he did not have a favorite restaurant. I picked out five. One was Japanese. I remembered that his mother shared that he loved to eat sushi. When we met and he did not show a preference, I suggested my ideas, saving the Japanese restaurant for my last possibility. I said that if we chose the Japanese I would need his help because I know nothing about sushi–and that was in fact true. He seemed to like the idea of being his grandfather’s teacher!
I had chosen an early lunch time, about 11:30 A.M. I did that because I have difficulty hearing in crowded, noisy restaurants. It worked perfectly; we were the first guests of the day. The music was a little too loud, but I could manage over it. My grandson was indeed a capable guide to select a meal from the Japanese menu–though I admit some Japanese sushi rolls were named after American sports teams. It was not like being in Tokyo. But he handled the process with aplomb and in a short time we were eating and conversing just as I imagined it.
The night before our lunch I told my wife, Nancy, that I wanted to be careful in conversation with my grandson. I wanted to remember to not talk too much about the past, rather focus on the future. As an old man, my tendency is to review the past; as a young man of fourteen years, my grandson’s life is mostly in the future. Along this line of thinking, I also knew that he sees his future tied to sports–his father is a high school teacher and football coach. Since his father played college sports, I imagined that he looked forward to a similar future.
My grandson surprised me when he shared that he is not interested in playing sports or being a coach. He is more interested in sports management or broadcasting. Then he went on to describe his Instagram page where he evaluates professional basketball players. He said that he has about three hundred followers of the page!
We talked about digital media and how you tell a good story with a combination of pictures, written and spoken words. Here I could not keep quiet about my past. I had to share how I conceived my multi-media storytelling programs for schools. I am not sure how much he understood about my work. He did not ask any questions.
Somewhere in our conversation we started to talk about video games. He shared how kids today communicate and play games without being together in person. I ask if he could demonstrate this when we went back to his house. He agreed and we went on to converse about family and school classes for the upcoming year. In total, we talked for about an hour over our Japanese Sushi. I enjoyed the meal, but treasured most the opportunity for conversation with a fourteen year old.
When we arrived back at his family’s house, we went to the basement to the game room. He immediately found the controller for his favorite video game. The game has one purpose: you try to kill people and they try to kill you. After five minutes of mayhem, I asked if he had ever shot a real gun. He said no. I shared that I had been taught to shoot and kill animals as a young boy. I said that I did not like hunting and shooting guns as a boy; and, I never did kill an animal. This was as close as I came to being critical of this game that he seems to enjoy very much. Finally, I was able to convince him to change video games and show me one built around the sport of basketball. For ten minutes he demonstrated how to play this game; and actually while he was playing, a friend came online and joined the game for a few minutes.
So did I come away from this visit with my grandson wishing I could be fourteen again and have my life before me? I think the important word here is “be”: and, its meaning is very different for the two ages. For the fourteen year old, it is connected to becoming, discovering your potential and fulfilling it. Carl Jung called this the process of individuation, becoming what you are meant to be, not what others want you to be. For me at seventy-six years, being is more complex. As I have described it before, you live with one eye on the road ahead and the other eye on the rear-view mirror. If you have lived your process of individuation, there is pleasure in looking back at your life. This looking back is even more attractive when you look ahead and realize that death is just down the road. Maybe this is the time to start practicing “mindfulness”, to be in the present and ignore the past and the future? I think I prefer, for myself, trying to be involved in all three: reflecting on my past, aware of my end of life before me and all the while remaining engaged with the world around me!