27 JanWhen My Teen Is Willing to Talk, I’m All Ears

A few years ago I was reading a newspaper article on teen suicide. All of the stories in this article were sad, but one troubled me more than all the rest. A mother in Moab had found her fifteen year old daughter hanging in her bedroom closet. She was dead of suicide. The reporter had pieced together a story of a girl who struggled with self-esteem issues, loneliness, and perhaps some depression that was exacerbated by some bullying at school. I think many of us have gone through what this girl went through and survived, but from this young lady’s point of view it was unbearable. What cements this particular story in my memory is what the mother (a single mom)said at the end of the story. Her daughter had written a poem a week before her suicide and asked her mother to read it. The mother had pocketed the folded piece of paper and told her daughter that she would read it later. The mother found time to read it after her daughter’s suicide. The poem clearly indicated the daughter’s dark state of mind and was a moving cry for help. The mother had read it a week too late.

Every parent, whether of one child or twelve children, has said “later” to a request. In a world ruled by time, where multi-tasking is an illusion no matter how good at it you think you are, saying “later” cannot be avoided. The key to avoiding the heartrending mistake that mother made is knowing when not to say later. I will not judge that mother because I have said “later” to each of my eight children more times than I can count and perhaps it is only by the grace of God I have not suffered a similar tragedy. May this grace continue because I still have five more children to raise through teenage years.

What I do know is that I have grown an appreciation for the time my children take to talk to me. I didn’t gain this appreciation until my first child hit his teenage years. When children are young you can’t get them to shut up. I learned to listen without listening. Perhaps you know what I mean. I wasn’t as good at this as I thought because one of my sons would put his hands on both sides of my face and force me to look at him as he talked. He knew. But when my first son and best buddy in the world became a teenager he turned into a distant acquaintance. He spent most of his time in his room. In place of the long stories he used to tell I would only get grunts in response to my questions about his life. This got my attention. I really missed my little buddy. Knowing that I couldn’t force my way into his life I started looking for those little hints of when he would let me into his life. I had to be patient, but these opportunities would appear at odd times. Once I was sitting at a bench at Lagoon, a local amusement park, with my younger children when I felt elbows on my shoulders and a chin next my ear. It was my son. He had gone off to enjoy the park with his friends, but had seen me sitting there and dropped by to say hello. We certainly didn’t have a heart-to-heart talk right there, but the fact he was touching me and was so at ease while doing so communicated more than words.  He didn’t voice it, but I was hearing, “I love you.”

I have a sixteen-year-old daughter who has a knack for turning seeming regular events in her day into colorful stories.  She’s not always ready to tell me these stories. She goes through times of “Don’t talk to me; don’t touch me; don’t even look at me.” These hurt my feelings a little, so when I hear her say, “Dad?” and sense some of her stories coming on, I try to stop whatever I’m doing to capture the opportunity.  I’ve never been sorry yet.

My fourteen-year-old daughter is much more distant from me than my sixteen-year-old. She often gives me looks I can’t figure out (but they aren’t complimentary). She rarely deigns to tell me one of her stories. Then, suddenly she will open up and stories will spill out at breakneck speed. These times always happen at the most inopportune moments. Usually she opens up when we have loads of company over and the home is a madhouse. But she is talking and listening is best done at those times.

Last night this fourteen-year-old daughter wanted to watch the movie Willow. It was late and I didn’t want to watch Willow (I have seen many times before). But this is a daughter who rarely will watch a movie with her dad. When I suggest a movie she will usually go off to read a book instead. I saw an opportunity last night and stayed to watch. I’m glad I did. For one thing I actually enjoyed the movie. But more importantly I had time with this enigmatic daughter. During funny parts she would look at me and laugh sharing her laugh with me personally. In many other places she had commentary that she shared with me with eye-contact. She was talking to me! Today she might not have much to say to me again, but the time spent with her last night will keep me warm for the rest of the winter.

In all my efforts to be a good listener and keep communications open with my teenagers I have plenty of failures. There are those awkward times when my family makes me aware that I am ornery, hypocritical, and stubborn. In spite of these weaknesses, I hope to never have a “later” at a critical time in my teen’s life.