Last week, for the first time, my son balked at the mandatory “have a good day at school” kiss. My first-born, my baby, my guy. I watched him as he strolled off to hang out with his friends, an impossibly heavy backpack on those still narrow shoulders. Nine and ten year-old boy bodies were draped casually over the steps, waiting for the bell to ring. If you look closely, you can catch a glimpse of the lankiness looming there, just a few years away. I watched them laugh and talk, still at an age where they are earnest about listening to each other. But for the first time, I wasn’t privy to what they were talking about. They have secrets. They nudge each other and zip their lips and roll their eyes when they see an adult coming.
That boy, the one I fought so hard to have, the one I bathed and nursed and chased around the playground with a hot dog. The one I read to and cried with and fretted over, snuggled with and soothed, the one I gave up my body, my former identity and a full night’s sleep for, is growing up. He is checking those gauges and fueling those jets, calibrating instruments and logging plans.
He is exercising those downy wings of his and learning to fly.
There are so many things I feel like I haven’t had time to tell him yet, before he stops wanting to hear them. Have I told him that I love him enough? Have I told him what a great kid he is, how proud I am of him? Have I told him how amazed I am at his equanimity, his balance and even-temper? Or has all that been lost in moments of shushes and exasperated sighs and not-nows? Have I told him what a wonderful friend he is? Have I told him how I don’t worry about how he is going to turn out? How I can already see shades of the person he will become? Such a small window of time to get the balance right before it starts to set; before it hardens into something that you have to break before it can be fixed.
Before you take off on your own, son, you should know these things. You should know how much we love you. You should know that we would move heaven and earth if it meant keeping you safe. You should know that we trust you. We trust that whatever the future holds for you, you are going to make your own mark on the world in a way that is right for you. When you were a toddler, running through life, we taught you to ‘brush it off’ when you fell, to haul yourself back up and keep going. You will make mistakes, some of them small, some of them big. While we can, we will give you a soft spot to land on. But that’s another part of learning to fly. Keep brushing yourself off. Keep trying.
Don’t spend too much time on the fancy stuff. Life isn’t about loop-de-loops and nose dives, even though those may seem like the most exciting parts to you right now. Yes, passion is a wonderful thing, dedication and motivation should all play a part. But a lot of life is about keeping an even keel, keeping it steady, keeping on course. That is yet another part of learning to fly.
Right now you are only puddle jumping. Running an errand by yourself, taking a different route to school. Soon you will walk to a friend’s house on your own, ride to sports practice by yourself. You will make your own plans and be responsible for your own things. They are small puddles you are jumping now, but soon they will widen and stretch, turning into streams, then lakes, and eventually oceans. I know when you are ready you will be fine. When you have enough hours under your belt, enough lessons, enough practice with those wings of yours, you will soar.
Most of all I trust that when you do fly off, beyond my reach and into the world that is waiting for you, that you will come back.
I will always be waiting.
Wine and Cheese (Doodles) 
A beautiful piece of writing, which one day I hope he will read. It made me feel overcome with emotion, and putting myself in your shoes, seeing myself with my own boys and watching them grow too. Tomorrow is a huge milestone for me, and the next chapter in our life together as a family. It has made me realise they are growing, that baby days and activities are behind us, and that they will become less dependent on me as they grow into their own selves…and start to ruffle and stretch their own downy little wings.
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We spend so much time wishing for the ‘next thing’ to happen, for them to sleep through the night, to walk, to talk, to start school, to be old enough to do this and that and then you blink your eyes and they are running off to do their own thing. I know we have a few more years left before it really kicks in, so I will try to remind myself to enjoy them. You too!
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Gorgeous. You moved a grown man to well up.
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I welled up a bit myself writing it, Rup!
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What a beautiful piece this is, to be saved and given to him when you think the time is right, and by the way you will still get hugs and kisses only they will be in secret!
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Yes, the secret hugs and kisses are still there, and the bedtime ones. Not sure for how much longer though!
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This is lovely, Dina. His retreat will be temporary. One day, he will come to his senses and realize what an amazing mom you are. Again. It’s what boys do. My MTM is closer to his mom than he ever was at 10. He came back to her again sometime early in his twenties. Different, but probably better.
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Thank you, Andra. My husband says that too ;-). What’s that cheesy old saying about if you love something set it free? I guess it’s true with kids too.
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This was a very poignant piece of writing for me. Probably, it doesn’t help I’m having a bad parenting day today, I suppose. Whether he knows it yet or not, your son has the best ground crew, right now, he’s ever likely to experience again. Lovely post!
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Thank you, on all fronts. (And thank you for using the same metaphor in your reply…it’s like it’s my birthday!)
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Always love reading your stories, Dina! Beautiful! Ahh to go back to the days when they were younger…these days as they are off doing their own thing, I do love it when they come back!!
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Thank you! I know, you wish them grown up until they are grown up and then you would do anything for them to be little and cuddly again.
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Dina this is the 2nd time you have quoted my favorite rock n roll band Pink Floyd. Both references have been spot on. Well done. I have enjoyed your work. Please keep it going.
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Thanks, Jim. I have to admit that the Pink Floyd references were unintentional (I hope that doesn’t change your opinion about the quality of the posts!). I did allude to one today though, as I fondly remembered Mrs. T in 4th grade playing “The Wall” during math lessons.
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