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Last November, my niece, Annette, lost her son in an unforeseen accident. He went to bed one night and choked on a piece of candy. A shock like that is hard to get over. One day, he is alive full of mischief and teenage emotion, and the next day he is gone.

Teenagers are hard to raise because they are a heap of contractions. They are happy one minute and crying the next. They want to make all of their decisions, but they do not want any of the consequences. They want to be treated like adults but they want to act like children. They see the need for boundaries for everyone else, but they do not want any restrictions for themselves.

(Click here to listen to the podcast of this column.)

The other day Reg, my husband, and I were traveling across the Navajo Reservation near Many Farms, Arizona. We saw hundreds of motorcyclists in black suits and masks driving towards us. My heart leaped to my throat as we pulled to a stop at the man-made road block.

I am always a little nervous about crossing the reservation, because I have had some wild experiences as I have journeyed that route. On one trip, a drunken Native American staggered across the road in front of my car. In his drunken stupor, he was obviously trying to stop my car with his body. I would turn my wheels one way and he would stagger into my path.