My son with ADHD is going to be great. His Pop-Pop told him so.

My father’s childhood produced tons of entertaining stories. From getting in trouble at school, to mastering his mother’s penmanship on school assignments with failing grades, to sneaking out of the house. I loved laughing over these stories with my dad. But now as a mom to an ADHD son, these stories leave me with a new perspective.

My son followed in his Pop-Pop’s footsteps with his own daring behaviors. He would eat cheese off of the salad bar in the grocery store. And he once pulled a shelf down in our garage “just to see what would happen.” He got his phone “blacklisted” in middle school after trying to circumvent the firewall to watch a video on YouTube.

Reflecting back on those stories about my dad, I’d say my son’s daring behaviors aren’t a coincidence.

My dad was my son’s biggest champion. Perhaps he saw glimpses of himself in his grandson. He would take my son aside and work with him on a math assignment or an essay — or even help him study for a test. He’d make jokes and call my son silly names to lighten the mood and ease his frustration.

I’d marvel at how much more patient he was with my son than I was. I often wonder if my frustration reminded my dad of his own mother’s.

My father’s mother and his teachers always thought he was lazy and a troublemaker. He was never evaluated for a learning or thinking difference. (These challenges weren’t well understood back in the 1940s.)

But regardless of what they thought, my dad found a way to get the most out of every experience and truly live life. I see those same qualities in my son.

My son is fearless and bold. He experiences life in a way I’m too cautious to. He takes apart computers — without knowing how to fix them — simply because he wants to learn how to do it. He recently worked with a friend, who also has ADHD, to fix up a car. Neither of them has any knowledge about auto repair, but they learned along the way.

My dad always said he wanted to live long enough to see what my son would become. He constantly reinforced to me that he knew my son would one day do something great. Sadly, my dad passed away in 2020 from lung cancer — cutting my son’s time with his Pop-Pop way too short.

Thanks to my dad, I’ve learned to see the bigger picture instead of getting caught up in the daily frustrations of managing my son’s ADHD. I know my dad would be proud of — but not surprised by — my son’s success. And I remind my son often to go out and be great because his Pop-Pop always knew he would.