The End of The Innocence

Thank you Don Henley!



As much as me might like to, we know that as parents, we cannot shield our kids from everything or forever. I read a story about a kid that was accepted to Colby College from a very small, rural town in northern Maine. I mean small, as in population 50. And I mean north, like Canada. He was basically home schooled for most of his life but then attended a small high school to play sports. He had to ferry himself across a river and walk a dirt road to get to school. With all the news stories I see everyday, that scenario doesn't sound like a bad idea. OK. Maybe it's a bit extreme.
You go through milestones when you know you child was exposed to something, learned something, or figures out something, that means he is growing up. It's a little sad because each time, it seems like a bit of the childhood innocence is lost. Some of the milestones hit you harder than others. When we talked to the kids about death when Demi's grandfather passed, and soon after when my grandmother passed, they seemed to get it and took it all in stride. It went far better than I had dared to hope and I guess that is why that particular milestone didn't phase me much. Even when the kids were exposed to curse words and colorful language for the first time (thank you Bonnie), it was more comical than anything else. But there was a loss of innocence. My kids now knew there were some powerful words that would get them into trouble.
This past week was one of those milestones that hit me hard. I overheard Caz talking to Demi the other day. He was using his way of asking about something. He said he overheard a kid at school say something. The kid had tried to say that country in Africa. You know. Nigeria. But he used a short "i" rather than a long "i". Well, Demi calmly, but immediately turned off the TV, and had a talk right on the spot. My heart was in my throat. It was like that part in Christmas Story, when Ralphy drop the F-bomb. Fortunately, it was not my son that said it, but he'd heard it. He didn't know what it meant. And he didn't need to. He only needed to know it was never to be uttered.
I remember when I was first exposed to the word. It was while reading Huckleberry Finn in school. Our teacher had to get permission to talk to us about it. But he didn't it in a perfect way. And I still remember it. It's one of those words you might wish never existed. But it does. And I do feel like some innocence was lost.