I can’t shake the feeling of the importance of this moment in Owen’s life. I look at the last 6 months, he has gone off to Grade One, learned to rollerblade, lost his two front teeth and half grown them back. He can make his bed, play hockey and burp on demand. He cries during movies (Air Bud) and laughs. The sun rises and sets on his father, and is too heavy to carry around anymore. (Although I do try, sometimes) I am watching my baby stand on the door step of manhood and have to wonder, have I done it right?
We graduated to the drive thru drop off at school and every morning I drop him off I see him running away with his back pack, it’s half his size and he pauses to turn and give me a half wave with a sweet sweet smile, probably cause I am yelling like a lunatic “I love you honey, have a great day!” What I am really saying? “Get back in the car, drive home with me sit on my lap, I’ll tell you a hundred times that I love you and all things about you that make me believe in miracles.” In that moment I know what is feels like to have your heart run away from you.
This is when “cut the umbilical cord chime”s in my head. Owen has his own world now filled with friends, adventure victories and defeat. Do I really have to let him go? Does he really need a wife, career and his own children? Makes me think of the creepy/sweet Robert Munch Love you Forever, where the mom sneaks into her sons’ room every night to sing to him and rock him
“I’ll you forever
I”ll like you for always
As long as I’m living
My Baby you’ll be”
“Sniff”
, but I get it. I sneak into Owen bedroom at night to hug him. I want to stop every bad thing he may face in life. A broken heart, a broken dream, whatever this crazy world may throw our kids. I know in that moment, at night with my arms around him he is safe. Then he wakes up and tells me I am bugging him, my nose is snorting. I’ve been given the boot. (Apparently I am a heavy nose breather when I am trying to stop time and defend my child in the middle of the night)
In all this I see my scruffy little boy, half his teeth missing, cowlick sticking his hair up in the back, dirty face, dirty designer clothes, bursting with potential, dreams and life. You can sense God smiling down on him, admiring his perfect creation. A six year old boy.
