Friday, August 28, 2015

Twenty-One

August 27, 1994
I feel as though I’ve been preparing for this moment since the day I first laid eyes on you. I thought I was ready, but the future is now and yesterday you turned 21. I’m not prepared.


I was not the mom who cried when you took your first steps. I was tired of carrying you!


I was not the mom who cried when you went to kindergarten. I was ready for some free time.


I was not the mom who tried to be your friend. I had enough friends of my own.


I was not the mom who cried when I left you at college. I knew you were where you were supposed to be. (Just so you don't think I'm heartless, I did cry when we pulled in the driveway at home, 600 miles later.)


I was not the mom who wanted you to stay little forever. I was always ready for the next season of life with you.


But this next season isn’t really a season, is it? You're an adult now, and things have to be different. Still, it’s awkward.


With Carly and Shadow, April 2002
When you come home for a visit, I want to do things for you, although you’re perfectly capable of washing your own clothes and making your own lunch.


When we talk, I want to advise you, but you don’t need another teacher. I feel old, out of touch, and generally uninteresting.


When I ask you if you’d like to go with me somewhere, I prepare myself for the answer to be “no.” I’ve been pleasantly surprised with how many times you’ve said “yes” this month. Thanks. I wonder, though, if you’ll choose to spend time with me once your own life begins in earnest.


When I try to relate to you as an adult, I find myself reverting to my role as mom. Although I’ll always be that, I want us to be friends. This might take a while, though.


Lego Millennium Falcon, Aug. 27, 2004
So, for now, I want you to know that--


I am the mom who wants you to share your thoughts. I’m interested in what interests you.


I am the mom who wants you to succeed. I hope you find a job that’s fulfilling.


I am the mom who wants you to find community. Friends are the family you choose. Since you don’t have any siblings, you’ll need some good people who know you, warts and all, and choose to love you. Don’t be afraid of that messiness.


Senior picture, Aug. 2013
I am the mom who will always love you--no matter what. The door will always be open.

5 comments:

  1. I love this. I love Michael -- even from afar. I have been praying for Michael on and off since I met your family some 7 or so years ago. The beauty of kids are that you don't get to raise them alone, you have had plenty of people pour into Michael while he was growing and plenty more praying for him and the journey in which God is and is going to lead Michael on. You are a good mother who has, since I've known you, desired Michael to know one thing more than anything -- that his Father in heaven loves him and desires a relationship with him. Michael is in good hands; that is the one thing you can always be certain of.

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    1. Kyle, thanks for your words of encouragement and for the prayers you've said for him. He is more loved than he can comprehend. I am certain of Whose Hands he's in, and He will finish what He has begun.

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  2. I admire your ability to be so graceful in handling these transitions. I haven't quite entertained the idea of perhaps, one day, facing the letting go. But if, when, that time comes, I pray I have the grace that you do! Happy Birthday to your son! Love to you~

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    1. i've come to this place through lots of prayer, Vicky. i'm able to release him because i know Whose Hands hold him. God gives us exactly what we need for these moments. Love you back.

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  3. Michael has always been a special boy and now as an emerging adult. You see, he is our first grandchild! How great it was to have he and his Dad stay with us last evening on Michael's way back to Taylor. His parents purchased our second car so it feels empty now. God bless Michael.

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