26 Years Ago.

I labored hard.  And I pushed even harder. It was painful. It was euphoric. Yet so rewarding.  Especially during an arguably "bad time" to have a baby.  19.   Trust me, I get it.

 

Soon time fell by the way side and TWENTY SIX years have landed on my calendar.  Twenty six years of hoping and praying that he'd stay alive and healthy. 

I remember that moment like it was this morning.  I truly do.  I also remember the very morning I felt his first kick in my belly.  It was actually like a lump that gathered into a little ball, and would subside.  But I would gently push on it, and it would gather back up.  I was nineteen.  And so in love with this little thing in my belly. 

It's so crazy to think that was almost 27 years ago.  The beginning of someones life.  The creation of a being. Of someone that is strong, yet very sensitive. Someone that is selfish, yet very giving.  Someone that was spoiled and treated "too good" as he said to me recently.  That I shouldn't have spoiled him. A real reminder to those raising boys out there.  Let them do things on their own. No hovering. Make them mow a lawn. Make them fix their own things.  Make them fight their own fights.  Innocently enough, I only did what my soul thought to do.  In other words, I did too much.  But just enough to say I am proud of who he is.  And the kind gentle being that his soul provides. 

I took him home scared to death. Each cry. Each poopy shit filled diaper I remember thinking, oh my god. What have I done. 

The days turned into weeks, turned into months.  And I fell in love with him more and more.

I couldn't believe I made such a perfect little thing. I couldn't believe that the belly I rubbed for months was this little guy that had a quivering lip and a perfect little dimple when he smiled in his sleep. He reminded me of a potato bug if I'm keeping things real here. He called orange juice "bubblebink"- he would also ask us to "hold you" to hold him.  I guess he'd hear us say "do you want me to hold you"...and so we let it go because it was so cute...he climbed trees, yet wouldn't run at soccer so we had to quit because "his legs hurt" where, in fact, he was just lazy.  You still won't see him "run"...

I signed us up for anything mommy-me that existed.  It was like even in my young age I kind of just knew the days would fly by, and I wanted to be the greatest mommy on Earth. Point being, I really had no compass to follow.  Just my gut.  My gut said love hard. And don't listen to anyone but myself.  Even though deep down inside I constantly questioned whether I was doing "things" right. 

More importantly as we entered his high school years and I was scared shitless that he'd end up a wild banchee. I would make appointments with his school counselor just to let him see we ALL knew he was on track. I never worried about him with academics.  He's a brain.  He always excelled in school. His brain works on over load.  He's beyond smart.  It was more trying to fit in...

Tattoo's, smoking, bikes, hanging places and with people I thought were shady, and yet I'd put money on the table that parents were thinking the exact thing of him. 

 

I mean....(I think the shirt says FUDGE)

The reality of raising a boy, and a girl, is there really is no perfect way.  

You do what you feel, you give because it's all you know.

You are raised one way, you want to offer the opposite. 

 I vowed to be there for both of them.  I have made parenting, and loving my whole life.  It's the only thing I feel I've done with my whole heart, the whole time. Not that I've done a stellar job, or even close to perfection. 

I do know with each passing year that I am here, I will feel love from them, and give the love right back. 

I know that our bond is pretty thick, yet I'm learning to let go. Of many things. 

That they will be okay.  That this life is fast.  

 They will go through phases, and cycles.  Just like the Earth. 

They will grow to know who their true friends are. And the ones that have left was a lesson. 

They will give up hobbies that held them close to climb onto the next set of passions. 

And they will offer more fish than all of our freezers can hold, and so you remind him of the unfortunate people of this world.  To pass on the good fortune. To give where you have plenty. And do it with the same passion that keeps you going on the path you are on. 

 As long as your soul is fulfilled.  Do it.  Whatever this fast life has to offer do it with passion.

I wish you a very happy birthday KMS, and so does this fine feller.  He wishes you all the love and peace this world has to offer.

 Happy Birthday from your Mama.  The young girl that made you a son.  And me a mom.  The girl that makes the best enchiladas, right?  The girl that makes the best grilled cheese with pickles, right?

Her.  Mom. Mommy. Mama. 

Thank you for being my son.  I love you Kris.  You have been the reason I am still here.  You and my other..

i wasn’t prepared for how
raw I would feel
when you came into the world
how much like an open wound
my heart would become
bare nerve exposed to every passing wind

i couldn’t have known
how i would be cleaved open
by your tiny hands and infinite eyes
that there would remain this chasm in me
a threshold
for unmatched joy
and unfathomable love
that could never again be filled
by anyone
or anything
but you

sometimes at night (now)
laying in the dark
i am devastated by sadness
knowing that just below the surface
of every moment we share
lies one inescapable truth:
we have only one lifetime together
days
hours
minutes
absurd
that a connection so eternal
could be bound by chains so finite
could be bound by anything at all
it’s a cosmic riddle i cannot comprehend
the work of a cruel and unfeeling logic
i do not wish to understand

but though my heart may cling to ignorance,
i know this much is true:
death will have to drag me
kicking and screaming
from this life with you

-a.