Why are kids so different?

I woke about 3:30 this morning and wasn’t able to get back to sleep. I’m sure all of you have had that same experience! Not a lot of fun. But there I was, lying there trying to think of something to think about!

Then I recalled a teenage I met some years ago when he was in middle school. I couldn’t help like him. A good looking thin young lad with a wonderful stay-at-home mother, an engineer dad, and a younger brother and sister. Ideal family, I though!

They went to church, lived in a nice home in a very upscale community. He went to one of  the best schools around. What a great life he had; at least that’s what I thought. Little did I know what was ahead for him.

Something happened to him is 8th grade, I don’t have any idea what it could have been. His mom called and asked if I would see him. “I think he’s smoking,”she began, “Please see him and tell me he’s OK.”

Well, I knew Mom was somewhat of a helicopter but I heard stress in her voice. The following afternoon he came in with out his pleasant smile. He greeted me but did not look me in the eye. “What the heck,” I thought, “this is not the boy I know.”

The three of us talked awhile; soon I asked Mom to leave the room. “Sure I smoke.” he bragged. I was glad he admitted it, as his clothing and breath were reeking with fumes. “I smoke dope, too, and I get drunk every time I have a chance. What are you going to do about that?”

Wow, I wasn’t ready for this from one of my favorite patients.

We talked a bit more. I invited Mother into the room and told her that Joe (not his real name) and I decided he should go to see a drug and alcohol counselor. Poor Mom, she cried, sobbed, and left the room.  Tears ran down my cheeks embarrassing myself and her.

He saw the counselor off and on, but things went from bad to worse, I’ll spare you all the details. Suffice it to say a couple of years later he dropped out of high school, married his pregnant girlfriend and moved into a tiny apartment. I think he went to work changing oil in one of those convenient oil-change places.

One night sometime later he called that his baby was sick. I made the short visit from my house to his apartment and was ushered into a smoke filled room. The baby was crying, the baby’s mother was crying, and Joe was puffing on a cigarette, I don’t remember what was wrong with the baby, but  it was only a few weeks old and I know I admitted her to the hospital.

The point of the story is that something went wrong and neither his family, the counselor, nor myself knew what, why, or what to do about it!

Contrast that with a man I saw last week. Some of you who have read this blog for awhile may think I am talking about a young man I saw a year or two ago. Their stories are similar, but this is a different guy.

I’ll make it short. When his mother was pregnant with him, for a reason I don’t know, a court assigned custody of him to his grandmother. When he was seven years old his mother was found guilty of murdering his  three year old brother, so he lived his entire life with Grandma and Mom is living her entire life in jail.

He earned a scholarship to a top level University and holds a BS in Engineering and two Masters  in Medical Engineering. He is, all but thesis, away from his PhD.  He is happy, ambitious, and just an all around great young man. You would love to have him for a son, so would I!

He Is as far removed from Joe as any two men could be. What made the difference? What did one have that the other lacked? Do we need problems and difficulties to do well? Is it true that things that don’t kill us make us strong? Do we, like iron, need fire to make us hard?

I have no answers. Perhaps I’ll think of something tonight. Or maybe I’ll just get a good nights sleep!

If you have any thoughts let me know!

PS Messengers in Denim, Kindle version just hit #46 in the fatherhood catagory! And the price has been reduced to $4.99. So if you have a Kindle and don’t have a copy, now is the time to get one! Thanks!