Some years back, social media was thrust upon us as a society. It came with no instructions, disclaimers or warnings. Being one of the last of the Boomer era, I was wary of this new form of communication and to this day don’t have any form of social media presence. My wife on the other hand, jumped in with both feet.

It has been my observation that social media has had a mixed influence on our society. I have seen many social injustices made right that would have otherwise left a voiceless individual or group victimized in one of a number of ways. I have also seen many reputations and relationships destroyed.

One casualty that hit close to home was the end of my marriage. I must admit that I was at least half the problem if not more. She found greener pastures out there and set out to graze them. I ended up in a smaller house and by his choice, custody of our then 14-year-old son, our only child.

I was devastated, scared and had no idea how to turn this kid into a man.

I prayed a lot, did the best I could and we found a routine. We survived covid and during the pandemic I pushed him across the finish line to earn the rank of Eagle Scout. I also enrolled him in flying lessons which led to a part time job at our local General Aviation airport. The aviation bug bit him and bit him hard.

Fast forward to today. Our son (now 21) is a commercial pilot. He started his own company and offers airplane cleaning, flight instruction, charter services and brokers the buying and selling of general aviation aircraft. I am in awe of the fearless manner with which he meets a challenge. My prayers have been answered.

He moved out of my house about 18 months ago. He has an apartment closer to the airport. We talk daily. I follow him around the country on Flight Radar 24 (he installed it on my phone). He or I cook for each other once a month or so. We also meet for meals regularly with Cracker Barrel being our main go-to.

A few months back we were enjoying brunch at our Cracker Barrel. We were sitting in the center part of the dining room, the section with the fireplace. My back was to the fireplace and he faced it. He had a view of all the people coming and going to and from the gift shop area to the dining room.

About half way through our meal, he said to me “oh no, they’ve found us.” I turned to see four or five police officers being led to the back portion of the dining room. We both laughed. He then counted as they filed in, 12, 13, 14. There were 14 of them in total. Although we couldn’t see them, we could hear the staff scooting tables together for the group to sit together.

We enjoyed the rest of our meal and fellowship. When the waitress brought us our check, my son spoke up. “Will you quietly bring me the check for the police officers sitting back there please?” The young lady smiled and said “let me see what I can do.” When she returned, she had two checks. She explained that they had split the group between two waitresses so as to serve them more efficiently. He took the checks and thanked her.

We headed to the cashier station in the gift shop with all three checks. I held back tears as I watched our son leave a generous tip on all three of those credit card receipts.

Parents, please know this: the next time your teenager tells you that they hate you and storm out of the room, they don’t hate you. They are scared and trying to find their way. They are also watching you when you least expect it. Do the best you can and most importantly, ask God for help. Take it from this misfit of a father, he hears you and will help you. And your teenager? Well, he or she is going to be just fine.