I’m finally taking the back seat

My two sons have been my focus for nearly 21 years. Honestly, where has the time gone?

So yes, I have a few more grey hairs, perhaps more than a few, as my colourist would attest. Now, with my eldest son away at university, it’s just my youngest and me at home. Fortunately, the three of us have managed to maintain our connection through the wonders of texting, emails and FaceTime. Seriously, though, I can’t imagine how I would navigate this phase without the convenience of modern communication.

Our conversations vary from the ridiculous to the jaw-dropping “You said what?” More often than not, I find myself completely impressed by the wisdom that comes out of their mouths. Kids today are sharp. Maybe I deserve a little credit for that.

Morning commutes and coffees

Every morning, my younger son and I make the half-hour drive to school together, coffees in hand, with me firmly in control of the playlist. Our route is carefully planned for maximum efficiency — no unnecessary detours allowed.

As my son approaches his high school graduation, a mere three months away, I find myself confronting yet another shift in my life. It’s a positive transition, but as the saying goes, “all good things must come to an end.”

Now, with graduation only a few months away, I can feel another shift coming. A good one, but still a shift.

From car seats to driver’s licences

In what feels like the blink of an eye, we’ve gone from car seats to driver’s licences. And if my car could talk, I’m sure it would have stories to tell.

I know I’ll miss these morning drives most of all. The conversations, the debates, the occasional teenage grunt while I try to squeeze a yes or no answer out of someone who’s barely awake. No topic has ever been off-limits. We’ve solved world problems somewhere between red lights and school drop-off.

Admittedly, I’m the chatty one. I can’t stand silence in the car, and my son is too polite to tell me to be quiet, but for the most part, he is a willing participant.

There have definitely been moments when I’ve caught myself talking too much, firing off question after question while he stares out the passenger window like he’s plotting an escape, silently mouthing “help me” to the car beside us.

Learning to let go

But after years behind the wheel, letting go feels harder than I expected.

Still, it’s time.

My sons deserve the chance to take the driver’s seat — literally and metaphorically — and steer themselves toward whatever comes next. All any parent can really hope for is that their children move through the world with confidence, courage, curiosity, and enough common sense to survive a few wrong turns along the way.

As for me, I’ll be sitting in the back seat for once, and watching what happens at the end of the journey, hoping that all roads lead to success with a few potholes to keep it real.

Tom Cochran