Forty Years On - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

This Old Dog

A bitter pill to swallow -
the years are whizzing by -
a truth that won't stay hidden,
and one I can't deny.
Old dogs don't take to teaching,
at least that's what some say,
but somehow I'm still learning
with ev'ry passing day.
I'm not too old to listen
when I hear common sense;
This dog isn't too constrained -
I'm not chained up, or fenced.
This old dog still gets to roam,
exploring new terrain;
this old dog is not too old
to exercise her brain!
This old dog still has a chance
to grow, and to improve.
I've still got new tricks to learn;
old habits to remove.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, January 24th, 2019

This past year I've spent a lot of time with seventeen year olds. Currently we're host parents to two international students who attend our local high school - one from Italy, and one from Brazil. My husband works two jobs and is involved in municipal politics - he's a pretty busy guy. Thus I spend a lot more time with our students than he does.

We call the boys we now host our "Dream Team". They're not perfect, but they come close. It amazes me that they became such close friends so quickly, and that each of them enrich our home in different ways. They're smart, kind and generous - you can tell they've been raised by good people. They make me laugh every day.

Some days playing Host Mom to these kids makes me feel incredibly old, and on those days they're usually kind enough to tell me that I don't really seem old at all. On the other hand, sometimes they make me feel young. They give me permission to let my inner goofball out - something all adults ought to feel free to do more often, in my opinion.

Sometimes I regale them with stories of my youth - and they're kind enough to listen. They tell me that a lot of things have changed in the past forty years, and the more I listen to them, the more apt I am to believe them. These kids are smart - probably a lot smarter than they give themselves credit for being. They get motherly pep talks, and they take it all in stride. At times they'll concede to the fact that I have years of experience that they don't - but they don't let me off the hook when they think I'm not seeing the full picture. I like the fact that they think for themselves, and won't blindly accept every gem of wisdom I offer without question.

I remember seventeen like it was yesterday. I didn't think I was particularly smart or pretty, and was amazed when my first boyfriend came on the scene and did his best to convince me that I was both. Those days of hanging out with my best friends, Donna and Jeannie, are indelibly imprinted in my memory. I had some of the best friends of my life when I was seventeen - and I'm fortunate to still have maintained ties with some of those people. I might have mixed feelings about social media, but staying connected - and reconnecting - with my old friends has made my life happier.

Our students have commented that I seemed pretty wise at seventeen. When I told them I'd never been overly impressed with looks or status in my youth, they told me that I was smarter than most. I told them that I was always mistrustful of the kids who were beautiful and popular - they understood what I meant. The "medium" kids were the ones that needed - and appreciated - my friendship. I've learned that's still true forty years on. I was becoming certain of who I was at seventeen - not willing to compromise what I thought was important for the sake of fitting in. I tried to be kind to others, and I could get along with most of my peers. My teachers liked me. When I look back at who I was then, I realize that I was usually too hard on myself. I really was pretty level-headed - and even wise - as a teenager. I'm grateful that through the conversations I've had with these boys, I've had the opportunity to look back on myself - at their age - and see the best in my younger self.

Experience has taught me that friendship comes in unexpected places and packages.You become a host parent, and you hope you'll have a good experience - and be able to provide a good experience in return. In my first serious conversation with these two, I applauded them for being brave enough to travel to another country and immerse themselves in a foreign language every day for months on end. They had no real idea who they'd end up living with - sometimes we see profiles far enough in advance to exchange a few emails, but other times we have no contact with each other until we pick them up at the high school, just off the plane at Pearson airport - tired, and undecided about whether they're more desperate for a shower or sleep. As their temporary "parents", we hope they'll be nice kids who will mesh with the family well, that they won't be too homesick for family, or too disengaged to want to spend time with you.

My expectations have been surpassed. These boys are my friends. They converse with me on every imaginable subject. They ask me how I slept. They don't complain about my cooking, and they compliment me on my desserts. And sometimes they return my maternal pep-talks and tell me not to be hard on myself, sharing the kind of wisdom that you might not ever credit seventeen year olds with having.

"Don't give me that 'I'm old and can't do it' garbage", said one of them recently. "You're too smart to say that! And no, 'I'll try' either. Do - or do not. Do I have your word?"

We shook hands in agreement.

I'm not too proud to refuse to accept wisdom from the mouths of babes.

Forty years on, I've learned to appreciate who I was at seventeen, to be grateful that I'm no longer that age, and to relish the experience of sharing friendship with kids who are experiencing life at  seventeen. With their encouragement, this old dog just might master a few new tricks!