From the Son Learns the Father

My four children are amazing - each in their own way, but all of them incredible.

Like all parents I get great joy from seeing them succeed and greater pain from witnessing their failures. Sometime though, I realize that I enable failure.

Such was my experience last weekend when I accompanied my son and his Boy Scout Troop on a rock climbing campout.

Some history first. Jacob was born without incident 17 years ago next week. We didn't note anything was amiss until a few months later when he began to miss normal physical developmental benchmarks. Since he was the youngest of four, I chalked this up to the youngest child syndrome wherein everyone does everything for the baby so they don't have to do for themselves and, as a result, develop later. It became apparent, though, that some of these delays were physical and not environmental.

My wife took him to doctors and each prognosis was gloomier than the last. One doctor told Rebecca that Jacob would never walk normally and likely never be able to run. He was Autistic, mentally challenged, physically disabled...... We were never able to get a definitive answer to what was causing the problems, but he received special educational assistance and eventually made the bridge into "normal" classrooms.

We always thought we were treating Jacob equally, but our family and friends have let us know over the years that coddling beyond the youngest child occurred quite frequently.

Fast forward to Rock Climbing Weekend:

Jacob had a particularly technical climb on a face that looked near impossible. The rock rose 12 feet to a 4 foot overhang and then straight up a face for 20 more feet. At 6'3" Jacob was too big to wedge himself in the crevice that the smaller boys used to traverse the overhang, but his legs were an inch or so too small to straddle the footholds on the outside rocks.

Jacob attempted multiple ascents on different routes with different techniques and it seemed to me to be an un-climbable; but each time I asked him if he wanted to quit he demurred and kept at it. After 40 minutes of climbing and falling back, climbing and falling back, he reached the top and made a quick rappel down the cliff - hands raw, arms, legs and back aching, but grinning uncontrollably.

I am always impressed by people undaunted by failure and today Jacob's persistence inspired me. Had he listened to me, he would have suffered less physical pain and been off the rock in 20-30 fewer minutes. But he would have been deprived of the ultimate triumph of his desire to succeed over his father's suggestion that he quit.

From the son learns the father.