January 31, 2007
Thirty-six years
I remember being terrified. Not of the pain so much, though that certainly frightened me. The terror, though, came from my feelings of total inadequacy. I wasn’t old enough to do this. I wasn’t mature enough to know where to start. What if I didn’t love it enough? What if I didn’t know how to meet its needs? What if I dropped it? I was so unprepared. We didn’t have parenting classes in those days. I knew how to change diapers and prepare bottles. I had done enough babysitting to know I could handle bathing and dressing and cuddling, but this? This was so much more. This responsibility was so awesomely huge, so much bigger than my clumsy skills could handle.
Sonograms and scans were not the norm at that time. I didn’t know the gender of the child I carried. Everyone in the family had an opinion. I wanted a girl. I didn’t want a little image of me. I wasn’t looking for a pretty little doll to dress up in frilly clothes, or a daughter with whom I could one day share makeup and wardrobe. I wasn’t biased towards girls or against boys. My feelings rested on something much more fundamental. A girl would be easier to raise without a father to help. What did I know of little boys? I didn’t know how they felt or what they wanted or needed or thought. Yes, a girl would definitely be better. I had some experience with being a girl.
Then I met you. What I had thougth I wanted was forgotten. I knew that this was perfection. This was what was supposed to be. This was as right as anything has ever been from the beginning of time. This was the part of me that I had never known was missing. My beautiful and amazing son.
There are gaps in my memories of my own life. Time periods that I just don’t recall in any detail. But I remember your teachers and your friends, and what places they filled in your life. I remember which ones you genuinely cared for and which ones you merely tolerated. I remember the few years of Cub Scouts and the many of Little League. Zoom and Speed Racer and The Fonz. The years that rushed by too quickly and that one that was so terribly slow. The coaches and friends and Brother Rowden and Alan who stepped in for those things that a boy needs a man to share. Woven through it all, the love of sports. The endless statistics, the rosters, the jersey numbers, the trading cards. Of course it was a sports biography that finally convinced you that reading was something more than an assignment to be completed by Monday. My favorite portrait is still the one above. You sit relaxed, confident, groomed and neatly dressed, LSU laces clearly visible in your shoes. The epitome of you-ness.
The miles between us now seem so vast and cause an ache in my heart. But the ache is a small thing because I know that gap is easily bridged. It is heavily outweighed by my pride in the man you have become and the joy I have in knowing that you’ve built a happy life for yourself. I love the boldness you’ve shown in making your own way and choosing your own path. I’ve forgiven the girl who broke your heart and I hope that you have, too. Grudges are too heavy and ugly a burden. I love the “best friend” woman who now shares so much of your life. I’m touched that you worry about me being way over here alone. Those are choices we’ve both made, so don’t allow yourself to regret them. I love the card, inscribed in your hand, reminding me that I will always be your first Valentine. You are mine, my son, because I never really knew what love was until the day that I met you. The day I knew I would never drop you. I think we’ve managed it all pretty well.
Happy Birthday, my son. I wish you love and happiness and fullness of life.
Posted by skeet @ 3:16 am • Home & Family
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January 31st, 2007 at 6:40 am, Jeanette Says:
Skeet…
This post really moved me. Happy Birthday to your son
And thank you for stopping by…if I send my 12 year old over I will definitely have to accompany him too…I would LOVE to go to Hawaii
January 31st, 2007 at 6:46 am, TW Says:
And you think I am good with the marshmallow-y stuff. **sniff**
January 31st, 2007 at 8:38 pm, whimsicalnbrainpan Says:
Oh Skeet that was so beautiful!
Happy Birthday to your son!
January 31st, 2007 at 9:13 pm, Kate Says:
Damn Skeet, they’ve just got to make those plane flights more affordable so you can hug your son more often.
February 1st, 2007 at 8:04 am, allysther Says:
I’m typing through the tears in my eyes to tell you how beautiful this is. Thank you for sharing it with us.
February 13th, 2007 at 2:30 pm, Cass Knits! Sweaters and socks and wool, OH MY! Yarns about knitting and family Says:
[…] will put a lump in any mother’s throat with Thirty-six years posted at her brand spanking new Skeet’s Stuff. It’s an awesome blog written by a very […]
February 13th, 2007 at 3:55 pm, Jessie Says:
Great post for the carnival! How sweet of you. I hope your son has a great birthday. Your new domain is looking great too!
February 13th, 2007 at 5:11 pm, Cecile Says:
Beautiful post! Isn’t it amazing how we sometimes want one thing, but end up with something that is even better than our expectations!
February 13th, 2007 at 5:15 pm, Amy Says:
This… was simply beautiful. Thank you for not only writing it, but for feeling it in the first place and deciding to share it with all of us. You described that feeling of “rightness” when we first met our babies so succinctly, so perfectly.
February 13th, 2007 at 6:35 pm, Laurie Says:
I cry practically everytime I read one of your posts! You have a beautiful way with words.
Did you share this with your son?
La Vie de Laurie
Laurigami
February 13th, 2007 at 6:53 pm, skeet Says:
I did share it with him. We had a nice talk about some of those memories and a laugh about the shoe laces. Then he started spouting the latest sports news at me. Some things never change.
February 13th, 2007 at 8:16 pm, CyberCelt Says:
OMG, I think I will just go over in the corner and have hysterics. My 17 year old boy moved out after Christmas and I am already missing him. He is only across town. I thought it would help ease him and me into his going away for college. Now, I don’t know *sob*
February 14th, 2007 at 7:34 pm, Lisa Says:
It is hard to believe how much our children change our lives.
February 20th, 2007 at 3:54 pm, suni Says:
WOW what a testament to how children shape our lives forever.
March 5th, 2007 at 5:27 pm, Carnival of Family Life - Be A Good Dad Says:
[…] presents Thirty-six years posted at skeet’s […]
March 6th, 2007 at 2:42 am, Megan Bayliss Says:
Amazingly beautiful. Perfect post for the Carnival of Family Life, particularly given it was on Be a Good Dad’s site. You were a good Mum and Dad.
Megan from Australia
March 6th, 2007 at 7:15 am, Be A Good Dad Says:
[…] presents Thirty-six years posted at skeet’s […]
March 19th, 2007 at 12:26 pm, Karen Says:
Aw! I’m sorry I am just now reading this. I love your post about your son. It is amazing how we love our kids isn’t it!
March 19th, 2007 at 7:33 pm, Mephala Says:
That’s so beautiful.
I really want to go hug my son now.
March 19th, 2007 at 8:16 pm, Mephala Says:
And I forgot to add, a very happy belated birthday to your son!
Thanks for reminding all of us how precious and wonderful our children are.
April 15th, 2007 at 6:52 pm, My Thoughts, Ideas, and Ramblings » Postie Carnival Says:
[…] presents Thirty-six years posted at skeet’s stuff. Skeet, I am glad you picked your son over chocolate to post […]
April 16th, 2007 at 4:23 am, Colleen Says:
Laughing at what if I dropped it…
Great post!
April 16th, 2007 at 6:24 am, Tess Says:
You sound just like my Mom.
April 16th, 2007 at 2:16 pm, Loretta Says:
That was great
Happy birthday to him, I think the boys are calling me for extra hugs….
No? Too bad they’re getting them anyhow.
April 16th, 2007 at 3:42 pm, suni Says:
I love this post. It’s the 2nd time I have read it since you posted it. What a beautiful story!
April 16th, 2007 at 3:57 pm, Lisa Says:
I have to agree with Suni — it’s a beautiful story that gets me all teary eyed!
April 16th, 2007 at 4:02 pm, Karen Says:
I love that story!
April 19th, 2007 at 5:45 pm, pelf Says:
*wipes tears*
Happy birthday to your son!