I Miss My Son April 24, 2014


I Miss My Son While He's Still Here
Children Are Grand

What can I say? I miss my son. The boy who used to speak without hesitation, who was quick to laugh, and even a little mischievous.

Today I drove him to school. At 18, he often takes his bike, but asked me for a lift because for whatever reason he couldn't leave the bike at school. I took advantage of the twenty minutes he couldn't walk away from me. I asked him a bunch of questions .. though spaced out so as not to overwhelm him; prom, college, etc. Then, I told him about a dream I had. I snuck in a few more questions.

"What do you think the sheep meant?" "Why did it bite my left hand?" His response to all those questions: "I don't know," with a few "ptew" sounds of frustration thrown in. Was I embarrassing him? Wasting his time? I don't know. He didn't tell me. I didn't pursue it because I had used up a fair share of inquiries. I have learned to limit them.

I told him when he was younger, he would answer anything I asked. I loved it. It was like having my personal oracle. Any questions I had, that I couldn't figure out for myself, I would ask Andrew. His natural ability to speak for Spirit astounded me.

But now, he doesn't seem to have time for that part of him. He's a high school senior. For the past four years, he's been rigorously studying his textbooks, and emotionally balancing where he fits in with his friends. He's about to leave all that behind for a new experience -- new school, new studies, new friends, maybe a new city.

I'm sitting here with the feeling of hope that in this new setting he will find his old self. I miss the little guy who would explain to me why sarcasm is the Universe's biggest joke on us humans, the little one who would explain details and meanings in paintings, yes, the guy who made sense of my dreams.

I love the 18 year old Andrew. And I know he has to grow. And I have to accept his independence. But I long for the insight the preteen Andrew shared without embarrassment, fear or self-consciousness.

Looking at it differently, I think maybe this is more a testament about me. About how I lean on others instead of sharing more of who I am. Haha .. there he goes again, giving me something to think about.

Children are grand, aren't they?



Back