November 13, 2014: I had one of those nostalgic days, where you glimpse your now-grown child and long for simpler days. Those little scratches and cuts that could be made better by a band aid and a kiss. Or an “I love you, a bushel and a peck”. Disagreements with teachers seemed ominous and life changing. How will I get him through middle school? Never mind high school. College? Didn’t even cross my mind.
Ah, if I only knew then what I know now. My boy’s rebellion would morph in to a beautiful compassion for the marginalized. His independent spirit converted to an admirable work ethic. He’d take responsibility. He’d love well. He’d be kind, and he’d be generous.
I was a mom at 20. What a risk that is! You are young, uninformed. But sometimes we get lucky. The kids that led us through the unfamiliar, obscured, often violent paths occasionally lead us to a much brighter side of that dark forest.
I will love this boy until I take my last breath.
