Her son threw her a kiss in the middle of a parade he was marching in today. How unexpected and lovely a kiss it was, too. She went to the parade with the expectation of seeing him march with the fire department that he belongs to. A little wave and maybe a smile was all she was expecting, the kiss threw her for a loop. It brought back home to her all the things that are wonderful about this child of hers. He is a *care taker* only she doesn’t think he realizes it.
From the time he was a little boy he has always been aware of the feeling of others. Watching him walk by she is reminded of the little boy who in third or fourth grade, started asking her to make an extra sandwich for one of his classmates, who he reported would come to school each day with no lunch. At that time she remembers thinking about what a wonderful little kid he was. She made the extra sandwich for three or four days and then the light dawned on her. Why didn’t the teacher notice that this child had no lunch? Why wasn’t this child eligible for reduced, or free lunch? Of course she made a call to the teacher that day. The teacher was so moved by the kindness of her child, that he became student of the month. She’s not sure if he actually remembers this, or realized what a big deal it really was.
Her son has been *a man on the go* from the moment he took his first steps. From the moment he took off she’s has been saying “Nick, stop running”…. “Nick, slow down”. She’s come to the conclusion after all these years that Nick will always be running. She wonders if he has the capacity to slow down. He is ever working on one thing or another….going one place or another. She hopes that her *mother voice* plays in his head when he’s involved in something she would consider *iffy*. She hopes that when he’s out with his friends, he hears her voice saying “Please, never drink and drive”. Sayings “Please, never get in a car with someone who has been drinking”. She remembers telling him once that if anything bad were to ever happen to either himself, or his sister, she would never be able to recover. Her life as she knew it would be forever over. That she would never be able to survive. She hopes he listens and she hopes the *mother voice* will continue to play in his head, forever.
She has tried for all these years to go to anything that her children are involved in, even now that they’re pretty much grown. Her son is a drummer, among many other things. Currently he is in two different rock bands. A *Death Metal Band* as she and his sister refer to one , and a much mellower rock band….she likes the mellow one much better. She’s pretty good at listening to *Death Metal Rock* too though. From all the years of traveling in the car with him she actually developed a taste for some of it….but certainly not all. Needless to say, if either band is playing in the area, she tries her best to attend. Her son tells her that when his band gets signed to a record contract, he’s going to buy her a condo. She thinks he feels a need to take care of her, even though she’s getting a new life, one in which she wants and needs to take care of herself. But she is happy that he thinks of her.
She remembers over the years, talking to other mothers, mothers of the kids her son was friends with. She remembers hearing them say how their adolescent sons wanted nothing to do with them….didn’t want to be seen with their mothers…didn’t want to be seen being dropped off at school by their mothers…..didn’t want anyone to know they had mothers. That was so NOT her son. Sure, he hated it when she would scream from the sidelines at a soccer game. She thought she was being supportive, he didn’t always see it that way though. He knows that she speaks her mind and would sometimes have a problem if she spoke it in front of others, but often she couldn’t help herself. Sometimes saying things in front of others was the only way to get his attention. Her son was the young adolescent who would give her a kiss good-bye in the car when she dropped him off at school, no matter who was watching, right up until he drove himself to school. That’s who her son was, and still is.
She stood at the corner of this small town that she lives in…small town America. She watched as her son came by, marching with the fire department that he belongs to, carrying a flag, tattoos on his arm….and she watched as he raised his hand to his mouth and threw her a kiss. How lucky is she to be the mother of this remarkable son? She thinks about what a wonderful moment that was to just be in……
From the time he was a little boy he has always been aware of the feeling of others. Watching him walk by she is reminded of the little boy who in third or fourth grade, started asking her to make an extra sandwich for one of his classmates, who he reported would come to school each day with no lunch. At that time she remembers thinking about what a wonderful little kid he was. She made the extra sandwich for three or four days and then the light dawned on her. Why didn’t the teacher notice that this child had no lunch? Why wasn’t this child eligible for reduced, or free lunch? Of course she made a call to the teacher that day. The teacher was so moved by the kindness of her child, that he became student of the month. She’s not sure if he actually remembers this, or realized what a big deal it really was.
Her son has been *a man on the go* from the moment he took his first steps. From the moment he took off she’s has been saying “Nick, stop running”…. “Nick, slow down”. She’s come to the conclusion after all these years that Nick will always be running. She wonders if he has the capacity to slow down. He is ever working on one thing or another….going one place or another. She hopes that her *mother voice* plays in his head when he’s involved in something she would consider *iffy*. She hopes that when he’s out with his friends, he hears her voice saying “Please, never drink and drive”. Sayings “Please, never get in a car with someone who has been drinking”. She remembers telling him once that if anything bad were to ever happen to either himself, or his sister, she would never be able to recover. Her life as she knew it would be forever over. That she would never be able to survive. She hopes he listens and she hopes the *mother voice* will continue to play in his head, forever.
She has tried for all these years to go to anything that her children are involved in, even now that they’re pretty much grown. Her son is a drummer, among many other things. Currently he is in two different rock bands. A *Death Metal Band* as she and his sister refer to one , and a much mellower rock band….she likes the mellow one much better. She’s pretty good at listening to *Death Metal Rock* too though. From all the years of traveling in the car with him she actually developed a taste for some of it….but certainly not all. Needless to say, if either band is playing in the area, she tries her best to attend. Her son tells her that when his band gets signed to a record contract, he’s going to buy her a condo. She thinks he feels a need to take care of her, even though she’s getting a new life, one in which she wants and needs to take care of herself. But she is happy that he thinks of her.
She remembers over the years, talking to other mothers, mothers of the kids her son was friends with. She remembers hearing them say how their adolescent sons wanted nothing to do with them….didn’t want to be seen with their mothers…didn’t want to be seen being dropped off at school by their mothers…..didn’t want anyone to know they had mothers. That was so NOT her son. Sure, he hated it when she would scream from the sidelines at a soccer game. She thought she was being supportive, he didn’t always see it that way though. He knows that she speaks her mind and would sometimes have a problem if she spoke it in front of others, but often she couldn’t help herself. Sometimes saying things in front of others was the only way to get his attention. Her son was the young adolescent who would give her a kiss good-bye in the car when she dropped him off at school, no matter who was watching, right up until he drove himself to school. That’s who her son was, and still is.
She stood at the corner of this small town that she lives in…small town America. She watched as her son came by, marching with the fire department that he belongs to, carrying a flag, tattoos on his arm….and she watched as he raised his hand to his mouth and threw her a kiss. How lucky is she to be the mother of this remarkable son? She thinks about what a wonderful moment that was to just be in……
1 comment:
mspotbelly said...
And you were worried when you brought home this little boy without an instruction manual, you've done a great job!
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