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"You're doing great," I encourage him, though I'm clutching the side door like a lifeline.
His eyes flicker to me and then back to the road ahead. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?"
"Would I lie to you?" I tease.
He smiles. It's a simple expression, but it holds a world of meaning. A look of determination settles over him. "Okay, let's do this."
For the next few minutes, we drive around the empty parking lot, Ilya gradually growing more comfortable with the controls. When he makes a smooth turn, accelerating gently into it, my heart soars. That's my boy.
"How're you feeling? Ready to graduate from parking lots to actual roads?" I ask, glancing at him.
Ilya takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out. "Yeah, I think so."
We exit the parking lot, joining the flow of traffic on the street. It's light at this hour, a small mercy. But despite the ease of the drive, I find my palms sweating. Thirteen years of being a father, and in moments like these I truly understand the gravity of it all—the weight of guiding another human being through life, of helping him become the person he's meant to be.
We drive in silence for a bit, both lost in our thoughts until we come to a stop at a red light. I turn to look at Ilya, so grown up now but still my little boy in so many ways.
"You're doing a great job," I tell him sincerely. "I'm proud of you."
His face brightens with a smile that, even after all these years, can still effortlessly light up a room. "Thanks, Papa. That means the world to me."
The light turns green, and Ilya eases his foot onto the gas. As we move forward, so smooth and steady now, I can't help but think about the road that lies ahead for him—for all of us. And though there will undoubtedly be bumps along the way, turns we don't expect and stops that catch us off guard, there's nowhere I'd rather be than right here, riding shotgun beside my son, as we navigate this journey called life.
We're cruising along the streets now, Ilya handling the wheel with increasing confidence. It's a perfect opportunity to talk about something that's been on my mind, especially since he’ll soon be eighteen.
"So, Ilya," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "Have you given any thought to what you want to do in the future? Any plans, dreams, wild ambitions?"
He hesitates, gripping the wheel a bit tighter. "To be honest, Papa, I'm not really sure. I've been thinking about maybe shadowing Uncle Leo in the accounting department, get a feel for the family business, you know?"
A wry smile forms on my face. "Accounting, huh? I think your uncle would love that." Ilya is as brainy as they come. Working with Leo would be a natural fit.
His shoulders relax a bit. "Thanks, Papa, that'd be great."
"But you seem like you've got something else on your mind," I probe, noting his still-uncertain expression.
He sighs, a sound that seems to carry the weight of the world. "I guess... I guess I feel bad for not having any direction. Look at my cousins. Yevgeny is already a rising star in tech, and Anya has her own art gallery. I feel like I don't measure up, like I should already know what I want to do with my life."
My eyes lock onto his, earnest and full of fatherly love. "Ilya, listen to me. When I was your age, I didn't have a damn clue what I wanted. Hell, I didn't really get my shit together until my mid-thirties, and even then, life had a way of throwing curve balls."
His eyes flicker with a mixture of disbelief and relief. "Really?"
"Absolutely. Look, it's perfectly normal to not have everything figured out at seventeen. No one does, despite what it may seem like. And you don't have to compare yourself to anyone else, even your successful cousins. Everyone has their own timeline for these things. You'll find your path, I have no doubt about that. What's important is that you do what feels right for you and always keep your eyes forward. You might not have the destination plotted out, but the journey—ah, the journey is where you'll find yourself, where you'll forge yourself into the man you're destined to become."
For a few moments, we drive in a comfortable silence. Ilya is mulling over what I've said, his brow furrowed but his eyes a bit brighter than before.
Finally, he speaks. "Thanks, Papa. It means a lot to hear you say that. It's just... the future seems so big, so full of possibilities and pitfalls, you know?"
Ah, the double-edged sword of youth: endless possibilities and the paralyzing fear that comes with them.
"I know, son, I know. The future is a vast, unknown territory, but that's what makes it so exciting. And if you ever feel lost, remember you're not alone. You have a family that loves you. I'll always be here to give you a push, or pull you back, whatever you need."
He grins, a genuine smile that lights up his face and warms my heart. "I'll remember that.”
We drive on, the city lights blurring past us, each lost in our thoughts but connected by a newfound bond. It's a simple conversation, perhaps, but one that feels as significant as any I've had in my life. I glance at my son, this incredible young man beside me, and I'm struck by a sense of boundless optimism, for him and for whatever the future holds. He's well-equipped for the journey ahead, armed with the lessons of the past and the boundless possibilities of what's to come.
As we pull into the driveway, the engine humming softly beneath us, I realize my role as a father is far from over, but moments like these make it all worthwhile. It's in these quiet conversations that life's greatest truths are often revealed, and I can only hope this lesson will stick with Ilya as he ventures into the great unknown.
But for now, he's still my son, still learning the ropes, still finding his way. And that's okay. After all, the road ahead is long, and we've got plenty of time.
