Youth full of optimism

Eighteen years ago my nephew was born. He was a tiny, pink baby with a dusting of strawberry blonde hair. Today he is a huge hulk of a boy, and that strawberry blond hair not only covers his head but a good bit of his chin.
What was once an unfocused bundle of potential now appears on stage in high school plays. He has become a band kid who has switched from saxophone to tuba. He has a wide range of friends and a dearth of job experience. Ambitious is not a word anyone would use in describing him.
In some ways he is still an unfocused bundle of potential. But then, I think back to when I was his age. My only work experience was babysitting. My ambitions were to get any kind of job I could find, get married and have children. I had no intentions of saving the world or doing anything other than supporting myself. Looking back over my life, I think I have done alright so a lack of ambition at the end of high school is not the end of the world.
When I went grocery shopping this week, the boy who bagged my groceries reminded me of my nephew. He insisted on carrying my groceries to the car with the excuse that he needed to bring in carts anyway.
Inside the building he wore the same aura of boredom I was used to seeing in my nephew. Then he started talking about his miniatures. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. At first I thought he was talking about an assortment of chocolates, but he told me they were like little army men used to play some sort of table game.
As he talked, his eyes lit up and his voice became more animated. Clearly, this game was important to him. Honestly, I don’t give a fig about some game I have never heard of, but I do relish watching someone describe something they enjoy. After he had loaded my purchases into the car, he was still smiling as he gathered the grocery carts together. The warm sun reflected his happiness as I made my way back home.
That short exchange reminded me of the enthusiasm of my nephew when he talks about music. Personally, I can’t carry a tune in a bucket. But my nephew has apparently inherited at least some of his genes from a long ago troubadour who was reputed to be one of our ancestors. Take him to a concert, even a school one featuring his younger cousin, and he is in his element.
We don’t know what the future holds. Perhaps the grocery store guy will be a famous tournament winner someday. Maybe my nephew will become a renowned conductor or even a professional tuba player. Anything is possible.
When I first held the tiny infant he once was, I never imagined he would be a musician. His future is there for the taking. Soon he will graduate from high school and enter into the next phase of his life.
I tease my brother and tell him that his son will never move out. I say he will live with his parents forever, as will his future wife and children. I tell my brother to start planning an addition to his home to house all these extra people. My brother laughs, and says I am probably right.
Eighteen years ago my nephew was born. A lot has changed since then. What hasn’t changed is the eternal optimism and possibilities of youth. What hasn’t changed is the sparkle in someone’s eyes when they talk about something they enjoy. I hope that the grocery store guy and my nephew never lose that sparkle. I hope they both enjoy all that life can offer. I hope that you do, also.[[In-content Ad]]