Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Boston - A Man I'll Never Be (audio only)

Squeaky came for a visit today, with Bear and Turkey of course.

It seems like a lot of time has passed since I saw him last.  ( I tell this stuff here to DH and he says "yeah, but its been a loooong two weeks."  Yep, it has.

Squeaky looked somehow taller, older and the divide between us is wider.  I was afraid to hug him hello, then changed my mind.  But when that embrace ended, the boy was gone and a man smiled back at me.

Bear got down to business.  We worked out a price for them to keep him.  I agreed.  He needs things and food.  He's still my responsibility.  But only for a bit longer.  Just until his college financial aid kicks in.
A few months at best.  Then the man is totally on his own.

I visited and watched as he packed up the last of his stuff.  Computer stuff mostly.  All the while this song above ran through my head.  We do not have that kind of situation at all.  Not what's in the song.  But it reminded me that this changeling  is the one who decides what kind of man he will be.  I've done my part.  The rest is up to him... to be the man he wants to be for himself.

A subtle change when he left.  This time he did not fight me or tell me "No touching!" the way he used to when I would sneak up to hug him.  This is not my cuddly child.  The quick and suffered hugs of the past turned into a good long and willing hug followed by the words "Mom, I love you."  and I didn't even have to tell him I loved him first.  

It was five minutes after he left before I snuck off to my room to have a little cry.
Then I thought about what Turkey said...
"Grandma, mom has underwear.  I want to go home." and I laughed good and hard.
You gotta love what goes through a two and a half year old's mind. 


  1. I've done my part. The rest is up to him...

    This is true, some women hold onto being a mother way to long and it teaches the kids that they can take forty years to grow up, if they ever do.

    On Rick's 18th birthday his parents gave him a tent and a sleeping bag and he says it was wise of them to do so. And he set out on his own life's adventures and learning how to take care of himself.

    I joined the Navy at 18, pretty much the same difference, at least I got out of their home where I didn't like it anyway.

    My kids got tossed into adulthood the hard way I guess, their mother up and died on them.

  2. Billy B.-- Well I have learned through experience not to hold on too tightly. I moved out when I was 17, like Squeaky. I traded my family for a different sort of family... my four fine fellows who kept me safe and woke me up to make them food at all hours. I am not sure that its the same thing, but I did grow up and did not move back home. I have always had at least one man looking out for me. Perhaps I am just now finishing growing up by living alone for the first time in my life. Strange days for me.

  3. I've gotten used to living along, not saying I like it but I'm more or less used to it being as THE INSANE CHICKS SOCIETY (TICS) pretty much drives me nuts anymore.

    They want to build empires, I go camping.

  4. I think what's important about letting go is that he knows you are still there. There's a huge difference between forcing a kid out and allowing them to move into independence, and it sounds like that's exactly what happened. I somehow suspect that no matter where or when, if he needs you, you'll be there for him.

  5. About the hugs... sometimes, when we let loose a bit, what we let go of will wish to hold onto us a bit longer and stronger. That he did so shows you did your job correctly. Good Mom!

  6. Good Mom, toss mommy a bone, ha ha ha

    It's nice and sunny here this morning, time to start some plants inside and trim that bitch of an apple tree, I think she hates me and likes to mock me by getting bigger each year.

    Maybe she wouldn't do so well if I stopped pissing on her?

  7. secret agent woman-- Yes, as long as I live. It was good to see him and get past that awkward "first visit". Next time it will be more natural.

  8. Billy B.-- Hummm... not sure what to say to that.

  9. I read a book to my older son recently, his choice. I have little idea what's on his shelf, he gets so many as gifts, I just want them on the shelf, not the floor. Anyway, I didn't realize it would be a life-changing experience that night.

    It looked like a typical kid's book, even a little cheesy, Let Me Hold You Longer. And it was cheesy, but even that couldn't stop the point getting through to me.

    The basic idea was, we always pay attention to the first time our children do anything, but we usually miss the last time: the last time we pick them up and carry them to bed, the last bedtime story, etc. So pay attention because you never know.

    Despite the corny, Hallmark-style poetry I could barely get through the book without choking up. I still can't say it's a great book, but it changed my life all the same.

  10. Cricket-- Children's books have a way of doing that to you sometimes. Want a real tear jerker? Read "Love You Forever". Its about how a mother rocks her son in the beginning of his life, then at the end of her life, he is taking care of her. Tears your heart out.

    My children will always be the best gift that I have ever received.

  11. Your grandson's comment made me think of your mom's habit of checking that all of you kids were wearing underwear. Kids do say the darndest things.

  12. Cube-- LOL!!! You're right, and it makes sense when you think about it that way. That is just too funny.

  13. Our jobs as parents is to raise our kids to be independent...But sometimes it sure is tough.

  14. Your Squeaky sounds a lot like my Secret Agent Man...very self-contained. This is such an amazing time in your life, full of change and newness. Enjoy, deserve all good stuff.

  15. laura b.-- Thank you. I'm still waiting on that good stuff. So far it seems mostly like frustration. Cars that break, blah, blah, blah. But I am having some fun along the way. :-)

  16. Churlita-- Yes, it is hard to be a parent. Rewarding but hard.