A New Path

The other day, we had a big promotion at our store. I wanted to get kids excited about gems…and my husband had wanted a way to give them away to kids…with Easter coming, I thought that would be a GRAND idea (and it was).

We had a large crowd, gave out donuts shaped like carrots…and I was dressed as the Easter Bunny (not my fav gig if I’m being honest) and persuaded another employee to be my sidekick carrot. The day was glorious, busy, and fun…and for the most part…the children enjoyed it (there are always those that scream ☹️)

I was perfectly fine, until a little boy who was 18 months old came in. He was dressed like I had dressed my son back then…built like him when he was that age…and I just sort of lost it…right there in that bunny suit. No way to wipe my tears…just had to deal with it.

So many people grieve when their kids leave home for the first time, when they start college….then there are the rest of us….who are happy to see them go…because, let’s face it…raising a senior boy is the hardest job in the world…so not kidding!

My first tears came when he no longer was interested in Star Wars, and put away his figures…and his Playmobile. When he started growing taller than me….when I realized he was stronger than me.

When I had to send him out in the cold snow to shovel with his dad…when he had to learn to mow and I had to let him. When his voice changed and there was a man walking all over the house. When he was to big to carry to bed…when he no longer wanted to go dig for worms and ride his scooter….when he went to Boy Scout camp year after year and had to learn to deal with the extremes of weather.

I didn’t cry this past Saturday because my son wasn’t coming home for Easter….I cried because the little boy who held my hand and said “I love you Mommy.” is gone. I cried because he won’t ever sit on my lap again, or let me read bedtime stories, while I stroke his hair and kiss the top of his head…instead right now, we are still in the stage of…learning to grow up…learning what his parents “owe” him…and what he needs to do himself.

Now, there are other women in his life that he listens to…and other advice he seeks. My advice is now…not important…..and ready to do without. He calls me when his finger is bleeding…when he’s sick…and calls his Dad for the good stuff…for advice…and I’m just the “food maker”.

Will it always be this way? Nope! It will not be….maturity is coming….and lots of life’s lessons that I can’t protect him from.

I can’t open his bedroom door, and see him sleeping and breathe a sigh of relief because he’s safely tucked in bed….instead, I have to hope and pray…that some of what I taught him, he remembers….and that he will someday realize…that this Mom wasn’t always perfect….but she loved her boy…more than he will ever know.