By

Craig Ennew

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Seventeen: There is a Light…

This week: about things we’re holding on to tightly

There is a lamp at the bottom of our stairs. When you come near, the very slightest breeze effected by your passing by causes it to wobble precariously. But it still works.

I can’t remember where we got it – perhaps Amazon or Dunelm – it certainly wasn’t expensive or unique in any way. But when we move to Dorset, despite having culled many of our belongings right down to essentials, that bloody lamp is coming with us.

As is the case with most families that contain a twelve year-old grenade on the precipice of adolescence, it has been known for the odd altercation to take place in our kitchen. These often results in “strops” of epic proportions from The Boy. And I’m not talking elegantly-choreographed flounces involving slammed eyelids – I’m talking a full-on screaming “hell hath ascended” meltdowns of rage and despair that destroy all in their path. My wife use to attempt to redirect such onslaughts to the side of the house that didn’t adjoin the neighbours’, but we gave up worrying about that years ago. Our lovely neighbours can verify this, I’m sure.

Unfortunately for the lamp, it lies in the path of said strop – right between the lower and upper decks of our Salisbury ship. Assaulting it with a scathing but oft-practised karate kick as he blazes his way back to his lair has become The Boy’s routine expression of Larkinian contempt.

The bedroom door slams, the house shudders and I wait for it to settle before I find myself carefully repositioning the poor old lamp on its plinth. For, while it still works, it has become symbolic of our ability as parents to bounce back.

More importantly, though, that lamp has come to represent The Boy himself. As explored in an earlier post, one of our reasons for moving was to be nearer his new school – a school, we still believe, that is suited to his passions. Helping any kid to adjust to the systems and demands of secondary school and a brand-new environment to boot is one of the great challenges for all parents. But to say his first few terms have been a bumpy ride, would be an understatement.

Having been dragged out of bed at 6:30 most mornings, though, The Boy has hardly ever complained about going in to this strange new place forty miles from home, no matter what challenges have come his way.

So it’s with some relief that, over the last term, we have seen him begin to turn a corner. He’s made new friends, he now has favourite teachers, and the positives points have started to trickle in.

Like the lamp, despite being knocked over time and time again, our beautiful lad picks himself up continues to shine.

©Craig Ennew 2024

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