When Life Give Us Lemons...

 Last summer Youngest found out that on his father's side they make a traditional Italian limoncello. He was given a nip bottle at a family reunion and loved it.  About a month later, I found out that he had called his uncle to see if he knew how to make it. He didn't. So, I did some research, and in what will likely be known as epic Mom fail number 8,971, mentioned to him that if he wanted to learn how, we could probably do it together. 

The idea has floated out there since Christmas with not much to it.  But as he secured everything in the garage, he noted he had a handle of Titos and asked if we could make it this weekend. So, I picked up all of the necessary supplies, extra big mason jars, a zester, and an exceptionally absurd number of lemons. I also picked up mandarins so we could make a batch of orange-cello as well. 

The true test to our effort won't be known for 4 months or so, as it must steep for a long time in the vodka for the best flavor. The best limoncello is made with Everclear or other grain alcohol that proofs over 100%, but we figured the Titos would be a slightly less shock to everyone's system this fall if it turns out worthy of being gifted. I also had some vanilla beans and a small amount of Titos left so I am making some vanilla extract as well. We shall see.

I tried to talk to him while we were zesting lemons, but my days of feeling like I've made headway have come and gone.  The last "break in" in the garage has left us all on edge. I installed another camera and check the locks routinely now. We're locking the cars, and I check the cameras when the light sensors come on. Youngest ripped his door off the track thinking someone was in his room.  We are all on edge even though, since we're now locked down like a fortress, it's highly unlikely it will happen again.

I have talked until I am blue in the face. I have tried every angle.  And although I know he sees that he needs to let go of all of these people, he just can't. His circle has gotten smaller and smaller and yet he can't walk away. I've offered school, therapy, a life coach, and nothing. Tonight, as I listened to his big business plans, I finally broke. While I love his enthusiasm and gusto for what he wants to do, he has no drive or plan to get any of it done. While he talks a great plan, he's not passionate about it, not committed.  When he wanted to read, he buckled in and didn't quit until he was the #1 reader in his entire school.  When he wanted to wrestle, he went every day to training, worked out, ate well, studied other wrestlers, and committed to training 4-6 days a week for 4 years until he reached a level he was happy with. 

But this dream of owning a smoke shop, it's easily derailed. He talks of one direction, then changes completely to another. He talks web design, then when it doesn't materialize, forgets it all together. I know how to get a business started, what it takes, how to run it, and he won't discuss it with me. It all just becomes another idea up in a puff of smoke. A dream without passion, or a drive behind it, is nothing but a pipe dream. I worry that in making the limoncello I am buying a ticket to this derailed train he's on.  I straddle the line of opportunity to talk to him and the condemnation of his actions often. 

I may regret teaching him in the months to come, but at least I'll have a nice liqueur to enjoy while I lament about it.