If I was just cuddling him as he lay in my arms while we took a daily nap, how is it Senior Night?
If I was just teaching him his letters, colors, and shapes, how is it Senior Night?
If I was just exploring his first zoo with him, how is it Senior Night?
If I was just helping him learn to tie his shoes, how is it Senior Night?
If I was just holding him tight as he heard thunder for the first time, how is it Senior Night?
If I was just singing all the songs from the Lion King with him, how is it Senior Night?
If I just found the cutest pair of little, size 1 hiking boots for him, how is it Senior Night?
If I just had to coax him to eat something other than cheese and eggs for three months, how is it Senior Night?
If I just taught him how to make and decorate sugar cookies, how is it Senior Night?
If I just tucked him into bed and held his little hands in mine while he said his prayers, how is it Senior Night?
I don’t know how it is Senior Night. What I DO know is that my baby boy is now six feet, four inches. His body is so long that he has to sleep catty-corner in his bed in order to fit. I know that time, while sometimes has been my friend, in this instance, has been my arch nemesis.
There was no sweeter little boy than my Precious Son. He was attentive and kind-hearted to everyone. He was always interested in what others had to say. He was incredibly easy to teach. Always anxious to learn and know and experiment with new things. This boy had a head full of curly, blonde hair that made other mothers quite envious. This sweet child would readily give you his last cookie because your happiness meant more to him than his own…especially if you were little sister.
There are no words to express what it is that I am feeling. Maybe because there are many more than one feeling to feel. I am happy for his health and well-being as he rapidly approaches college and leaving home. I am excited for the opportunities in front of him as a young man learning and navigating the seas of adulthood. I am proud of his accomplishments and his ease with which he approaches life. He has been likened to “water off a duck’s back”, so many times for good reason. This young man cares nothing for material objects or status. He is goal-driven and career oriented as his greatest desire is to become a youth minister in the Christian church. How could I not be thrilled by all my son has in front of him? His life is about to take off and he is so excited for the prospects. What is it that makes me so very, very sad?
His new life will be without me.
There are so many things that I wanted to do before he left home. So many experiences and adventures I wanted to share with him. I wanted to go to Niagara Falls with him, something we had talked about a lot. The two of us. Beautiful Daughter and Big Daddy have never been interested in going there. (“What’s to see but a bunch of water and then what? Head home?”) And what about he and I going on a road trip to visit all sorts of colleges, say for example, the ones I was interested in when I was seventeen? No, no road trip. He has his heart set on a particular Bible college and won’t even complete an application for anywhere else. No need to, he says. God wants him there. Well, who am I to argue with God?
Precious Son may not think twice about material things, but I do. I think about how I was going to re-do his bedroom this time, that time, and all the other times. How I started off on task and had the nursery in primary colors and teddy bears to stimulate his learning and something or other to do with his brain synapses. As a toddler, I was still on track with Thomas the Tank border and lots of wall clings depicting Mr. Conductor and Shining Time Station.
School began for Precious Son and his tastes matured significantly, leaving Thomas behind and diving into Pokemon and Beyblades. I remember sitting through quite possibly the worst movie ever made (e-v-e-r) as Precious Son turned seven. “Pokemon: The First Movie” was beyond horrible, but there I sat with Precious Son and his little friends as they watched Pikachu save the day or win the battle or something. Anyway, they were all very happy that Pikachu lived and we headed back to our little house and had delicious homemade cake and ice cream as we sang “Happy Birthday” to my little boy.
At some point, I fell behind. Precious Son’s room had UK basketball posters on the walls and an occasional calendar from the Broncos, but he never had the room I had envisioned for him. I wanted him to have a room reflective of who he was and who he was becoming. I wanted to have a place for his trophies, ribbons, and awards. I wanted bookshelves filled with every book he had ever read and some classics tucked in there for him to find when he wasn’t necessarily looking. You know, to pick up and read for us to discuss later. I wanted his room to be contemporary, sporting autographed pictures from his favorite athletes and teams along with memorabilia from all the cool games he had attended with his Dad and the jerseys he had accumulated from each game adorning the wall. His room was to have the coolest flat screen tv with an X-Box attached to it and plenty of room for the “Rock Band” drum set, microphone, and extra guitars.
The futon would be quite handy as his friends came over to play video games into the wee hours and ended up spending the night. The computer desk was to be angled, so as to sit neatly and efficiently into one particular corner of his room with a lava light, not only for light itself but also to up the ante on the “cool factor”. His computer would be the latest, greatest computer that did not become obsolete as soon as we walked out of Best Buy. He would be able to listen to his music on his Bose stereo and with the touch of his finger, he could adjust the volume, change the song, or mute if Rose called. His friends would continually comment how awesome his parents were and what an awesome room he had.
I am sure some boys grow up and into rooms like those, but mine didn’t. It wasn’t painted in a really neat way that was reminiscent of something you would see on one of those “room makeover” shows. You know, the room that all the kids in the neighborhood wish were theirs? Well, Precious Son did end up with an X-Box and Rock Band, but the drum set had to be moved into a corner when not in use due to lack of space. Many a friend spent many a night on that futon and the tv, although not a high tech flat screen, still served him well as he watched countless games. His awards, ribbons, and trophies have migrated over the years into his “memory box”…the box I have made him keep despite his notion that it’s more for me than him. *the boy is a genius*
The room was never big enough and the closet I wanted for him never came to pass. I had always envisioned walk-in closets for each of us. The kind you can walk in and sit down on a fainting couch whilst you sort through your never ending choices of Tommy, Abercrombie, and L.L. Bean. Maybe even the kind of closet that boasts rotating racks and rows for shoes to sit on; drawers and sweater keepers; and even a false wall where the gems and jewels are hidden.
Ok. So, Precious Son did not have that kind of room, despite it having been thought of (considerably and obviously) by me over the years. There has been plenty of memorabilia on the walls and we have talked about a book here and there, although the books that have lived on his shelves were more along the lines of “required summer reading”. And now? We have just enjoyed our last summer of his high school years.
Did we enjoy it? We went to the beach…again. We always go to the beach. He went to three weeks of band camp, like he has the past three summers. He went to church camp for two different sessions, like he has done every year since middle school. That was his summer. The beach, church camp, and band. It doesn’t sound like much of a summer for a kid to me. My summers were so incredibly long. I went to church camp for a week if I did anything and just played outside with Cathy Beleau. We would get out of school in June and not have to go back until after Labor Day. They were full, long days of doing nothing but seeing who could swing the highest and playing Barbies. The summers of my childhood were rather uneventful. The summers of my son’s have been exhausting.
I wanted to take him to new places, show him new things. I wanted to visit most of the States with him and see the sights this nation has to offer. I wanted to go to Washing, D.C. with him and have him and Beautiful Daughter listen as their Dad recounted his days in the military and what those monuments meant to him as a soldier, as an American. I wanted to hang out with him and talk about nothing or anything or both. Sharing the same sense of humor, I wanted to laugh uncontrollably with him as we went to comedy venues. I wanted to be the one he turned to as he watched some amazing tale unfold before his eyes in a barely lit theatre and listen to him whisper, “Mom, this is so great.”
I remember thinking how cool it would be to have kids old enough to play board games with…not the baby board games, but like Dominoes or Catch Phrase. Well, by God if the kids didn’t become old enough to play those very games and we rarely did. Seemed like we needed company to come over in order to play them. Of course, now that my time has passed, I clearly see the error of my ways. The old saying about having 20-20 hindsight…God, I live in that saying, it seems.
It wasn’t that I wanted to share and give and do all these things with only Precious Son and not Beautiful Daughter, of course I did and still do. I have a bit less than three years left with her before she goes to college… Again, I have tricked myself into believing there is time.
I am so utterly sad… I have tried to reconcile my feelings and they refuse. I know, as much as I don’t want to know, that when he leaves for college in a few months, he is gone. He will come back a man. He will be in charge of making his own decisions as well as accepting the consequences of his actions. If he gets hurt, will he even call? Probably not, because he is so protective of me and not having me worry. If he needs something, will he ask? If he gets lonely, will he call me? If he wants to come home, will he admit it?
The day is coming and I sit, almost afraid to move as it nears. I never took him on a dude ranch holiday where we would pack up a mountain, live off the land, and camp out under the stars like real cowboys. (Of course, we would actually need real cowboys because I don't know how to live off the land OR camp, but still...)
The states we have seen were mostly because we traveled through them or lived in them…not really some grand road trip where you get to see the largest ball of twine or a 17 foot motorized peanut that winks and waves as cars pass by. We did go to the Grand Canyon and did a big circle from Colorado to Arizona, Nevada, Utah and back to Colorado. We have driven through Kansas enough to know we hate that state. We have been all over Germany, Paris, and Austria. We have traveled the east coast and have watched the sun both rise and set in silence. We have enjoyed summers on the lake on our boat. He and his Dad have watched the Broncos play live and he has enjoyed meeting some of his all-time favorite athletes. He had a nice room and a got a car when he became a licensed driver. He has always had a cell phone and a computer. He is a great game player and usually wins when there is a mathematical side to it. His friends can be found at our house as easily as at their own homes and his girlfriend considers us her family. Precious Son is a professional gamer when it comes to X-Box and has the nickname “Thumbs McGee”.
It isn’t that I think Precious Son grew up disadvantaged. It isn’t that at all. He has obviously had the coolest games and some great travels. He lived in Europe for three years. He has a lava lamp. He has seen and done quite a bit… I just wanted his childhood to be fabulously happy. I wanted him to only have great days. I wanted him to see and do things that others only read about. I wanted him to know he was loved. I wanted him to be thrilled he was mine. Even if all that were true, I just want…more.
This is my material list, for Pete's sake! What about all the other stuff?
Did I teach you well, My Son?
Did I teach you that it is always God first, not just when it is convenient?
Did I teach you that being a Christian is a full-time job, not just for Sundays?
Did you understand why we forgave the people who have hurt us?
Did you believe me when I said I never knew what love was until I had you?
Did you trust me when I told you that love needs to be unconditional and we are all undeserving of God's?
Will you remember that all satan needs is a foothold and to guard yourself, your family, and your heart at all times with the armor of God?
Will you remember that boundaries mean love, not restriction?
Will you understand that sometimes you were told "no" out of love, not "just because"?
Will you remember the less fortunate in your prayers and remain forever grateful for your infinite blessings?
Will you trust in the Lord, God Almighty for every question and concern?
Will you lean on Christ when you don't understand why things happen, why people die, and man's inhumanity to man?
Will you stay and hold your wife tightly so that she feel safe when you are terrified and want to run?
Will you remember that Christ died for you, for me, for all of us?
Guard your heart, your mind, your life.
Forgive.
Be careful, little eyes, what you see...
Be careful, little ears, what you hear...
For the Father up above is looking down in love, so be careful, little eyes, what you see...
Life is not going to go according to your plans. You must stay alert and aware of becoming complacent, disconnected, and distracted. God will not move, Son. I promise you, this.
I wanted to do so much more for you, Son. I wanted to give you the world, not a minute piece of it. I wanted you to know all the important things and lessons...and rely on God at all times, not just when things get rough. I want you to have a thankful heart, and you have had. I wanted you to realize that you are a child of God, Himself, and He loves you infinitely. I wanted all you had experienced to be wonderful, life-affirming and safe.
God loved you enough to send His one and only Son...
I would never be able to do that for the sins of others... As much as I cannot fathom His love, I know His love for you is even more than mine, and it pains me to say that for I love you with all that I am, Son.
I watched you sleep as a baby…your chest rising and falling with each breath. I needed to make sure you were ok, healthy, alive. I hope I met you with open arms every time you were hurt, whether physically or emotionally because if you were in pain, it crushed my very soul. Son, my precious, precious Son, you are soon to embark on the rest of your life…your life without me as your decision maker, your confidante. You will soon leave this home in order to create one of your very own, and while this is exciting for you, I miss you already.
While pregnant with your little sister, we would nap together, you and I. We would lie on our left side, you cuddled up against me and my right arm over your arm, and our hands tucked together into your chest. Your head would lay safely on my left arm and we would sleep. This shall remain one of my most fond memories of your childhood until I take my last breath…
I wanted to give you the world, for you were, and will always continue to be mine.
You taught me how to love... My forever prayer is that I taught you the same...
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