Converging

I have come to realize that the line of demarkation between boyhood and manhood is blurry at best.

My 9th grade son wears a larger shoe than I do. He is stronger than I am. He is faster on a mountain bike than me. He shaves. He craves independence with his friends.

And yet as I sat with him in his room before bed last night––talking about the girl he likes, his friends, and making touchdown saving tackles on the JV football team––he sits on his floor playing Legos with all of the innocence of the boy who was 5 seemingly weeks ago.

The line between boyhood and manhood is not rigid. It is often fluid and ambiguous. Most days he is more man than child as he fills his sweaty, hairy skin with his personality covering his 5'9 145 lb. frame. And sometimes I catch glimpses of the little boy he once was and still is.

*Photo by Mark Gstohl