“Trouble”

When Jason was very young, he earned the nickname “Trouble.”

He had blond hair, endless energy, and a look on his face that just seemed to say, I’m going to be a handful.

And he was.

Jason is what I imagine the stereotypical younger sibling is supposed to be like. He was goofy, full of energy, and almost always doing something that made me smile or laugh.

Almost always.

Homework was a different story.

When Jason was in elementary school, he approached homework exactly the way I did when I was his age: get it done as quickly as possible so you can move on to something more interesting.

I remember more than a few times looking at his homework and telling him he was going to have to do it again because I simply couldn’t read it. His letters and words all ran together. I couldn’t tell where one word stopped and the next one started.

He would get so upset with me. Something that should have taken five minutes would suddenly take an hour, sometimes longer.

I understood him, though, because I was exactly the same way.

Jason has always loved animals. Of all the pets we have had, cats are probably his favorite. He also has a particular fondness for sea turtles and pandas.

When he was little, you could tell how much he looked up to Alex. He always wanted to play with him and be around him. The two of them did everything together. When they were very young, they spent hours playing with their Thomas train sets. As they got older, it became things like playing Skylanders together on the Wii.

They were brothers in every sense of the word. They played together, annoyed each other, laughed together, and shared all of those ordinary childhood moments that don’t seem particularly important while they are happening.

But Jason was always very much his own person too.

I remember one family vacation to Mexico when we took a boat trip out into the ocean to swim with whale sharks. This was exactly the kind of thing Alex wanted to do. He loved sharks and, for a long time, wanted to be a marine biologist.

Jason was not nearly as excited about the idea.

He loved the water and loved being out on the ocean, but there was a pretty big difference between enjoying the ocean and voluntarily jumping into it next to a shark.

We were riding farther and farther out to sea while the guides constantly scanned the water looking for whale sharks. I still have no idea what they were seeing that told them where to look, but eventually we found one.

It was huge.

Alex couldn’t wait to get into the water.

Jason wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. He was perfectly happy staying in the boat and watching from there.

One of the guides started talking to him and eventually convinced him to come sit at the back of the boat. He didn’t have to swim, she told him. He could just put his face in the water and look at the whale shark underneath us.

That seemed safe enough.

Jason went to the back of the boat with her and sat down. She got into the water.

And then she pulled him in with her.

Suddenly, the kid who had made it very clear that he was not swimming with a shark was in the ocean swimming with a shark.

And once he was there, everything changed.

He saw the whale shark underwater. He realized he was okay. The fear disappeared, and he thought it was amazing.

When he got back into the boat, he was full of excitement. The boat eventually had to move so we could catch back up with the whale shark, and this time nobody had to convince Jason to get in.

He couldn’t wait.

That story has always felt very Jason to me. He can be cautious when something seems scary or unfamiliar. His first instinct might be to say no or decide he doesn’t want to do it. But once he gives something a chance and gets comfortable, he usually discovers that it isn’t nearly as bad as he imagined.

Sometimes he discovers that he loves it.

I think that same determination started showing up in different ways as he got older.

Somewhere around middle school, the kid who used to rush through his homework suddenly started taking school very seriously. He did his homework, studied for his tests, put in the work, and started getting straight A’s.

At that point he was clearly taking after his mom, because that definitely wasn’t me.

Jason has always been the kind of person who, when he becomes interested in something, really becomes interested in it. He doesn’t seem to do hobbies halfway.

For a while, it was yo-yos.

And I don’t mean he had a yo-yo and learned a couple of tricks. He learned all kinds of tricks. He learned about different types of yo-yos, different manufacturers, designs and techniques. He built a collection and knew far more about yo-yos than I ever realized there was to know.

Then there were fountain pens. Not just nice pens, but actual fountain pens that you fill with ink.

Since he has been in college, he has gotten really interested in computers and building custom mechanical keyboards. He has quite a collection now. Most of them are displayed on the wall in his room, and they are actually pretty impressive.

He also collects souvenir spoons from the places he has traveled. He has accumulated an impressive collection over the years. It is one of those little things about him that I love because every spoon represents somewhere he has been and another experience he has had.

That curiosity and attention to detail shows up in school too.

Jason works incredibly hard in college. He finishes his assignments, prepares for his tests, and takes his classes seriously. When he struggled with the transition from high school to college, he didn’t just ignore it and hope things would get better. He started seeking out tutoring and getting help.

I was proud of him for that.

It takes a certain amount of maturity to recognize that you are struggling with something and then actually do something about it.

But as proud as I am of how hard he works and how well he does in school, that isn’t the thing I’m most proud of.

Jason has a huge heart.

I’m pretty sure he understands how much I’ve struggled with losing Alex, probably more than he says.

He will often go out of his way to give me a hug. He always makes sure to get me a card for my birthday, Father’s Day, Christmas and other holidays.

They may seem like small things, but they aren’t small to me.

One summer Jason worked overnight shifts at Walmart stocking shelves. Another summer he told me that his ideal job would be working with me, refinishing furniture and selling it online.

I loved hearing that.

I have always loved building things, fixing things and working on projects, and I especially love doing those things with him.

Right now we are working on a new desk for his room.

Of course, Jason doesn’t want just a normal desk.

He wants an epoxy river table made from walnut. His idea is to have something almost like a small diorama inside it. On the left side there will be a beach with sand that flows into a blue epoxy ocean, and then toward the other side it will transition into mountains covered with trees.

It is ambitious, but it is also very Jason.

We went together and picked out two beautiful slabs of walnut for it. He has already stripped all of the bark from them, and we have laid them out and marked where we need to make the cuts to create the shape he wants.

I love that we are doing it together.

And I love the smaller things too.

Jason still asks me to go with him when he needs to get his oil changed.

He asks me to go when he needs his car inspected.

He’ll ask me to go to the store with him to get snacks.

None of those things are exciting.

I love every one of them.

Because I know at some point he won’t need me to go with him anymore.

There will probably come a time when he has his own house, his own family, his own routines and his own life. He’ll make the appointment, get into his car and go take care of whatever needs to be done without ever thinking about asking Dad to come along.

That is exactly what I want for him.

And it is also heartbreaking.

Being a parent is strange that way.

You spend their entire childhood trying to teach them how to become capable and independent. You want them to grow up. You want them to build their own lives.

And then they do.

I am excited to see the person Jason is becoming. I am incredibly proud of the young man he is.

But sometimes I look at him and I still see that little blond boy we called Trouble.

I see the goofy kid who always made me laugh.

I see the kid whose handwriting was so terrible that I made him redo an entire page of homework.

I see the little brother who always wanted to be wherever Alex was.

I see the kid sitting at the back of a boat in Mexico who was absolutely certain he was not getting into the ocean with a shark, only to be impatiently waiting for another chance to jump in a little while later.

He is still all of those people.

He has just grown.

And maybe that is part of why I love the oil changes, the car inspections, the trips for snacks and the unfinished walnut desk so much.

They are ordinary moments.

But I know ordinary moments don’t stay ordinary forever.

Someday they become the things you remember.

So while Jason is busy growing into the person he is going to become, I am trying to make sure I appreciate who he is right now.

My goofy little boy.

My hardworking college student.

My animal lover, collector, keyboard builder and reluctant whale-shark swimmer.

My son.

Jason.