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Musings from the laundromat – Lightning Crashes edition
I sat outside under the night sky last night – feeling the thunder vibrate through me – smelling the rain that did not fall. Lightning flashed in random ‘peek-a-boo’ fashion, making clouds temporarily visible.
And I was contemplating.
Nic goes to England in just 3 days. For a month at least – perhaps indefinitely, if it is to be his path.
I’ve had so much on my mind lately, time slipped by on cat feet. Quickly and quietly.
Just what am I going to do alone with my thoughts? Probably have more of them.
As I stepped inside, ironically, ‘Lightning Crashes’ was being performed acoustically on the tv. Live was providing my thoughts some background music.
As if my thoughts need them.
My internal tangents have theme songs and a cast and crew … lighting and screen writers – production staff and catering. It’s quite heady really. Independent tangents of course, we have a budget you know.
But, a tangent was born. The song reminded me of someone I dated. He was in a band (shocking, I know.) He played the bass and when his band performed that particular song, he would come down from the stage and slow dance with me until he had to join in.
The drums and bass aren’t involved until the end of the 2nd verse of the song – and that is when my dance ended. Then up on stage he would go and I would find my seat.
I seem to have so many stories like that – but no book. So many ‘almosts’ but no ‘ever after’. I’m to blame for most of them, I know. I pushed people and opportunities away. So stubborn. And never willing to settle.
I’ve always had big dreams of what life and love is supposed to be. I still do.
When you’ve seen what I’ve seen and experienced what I’ve experienced, life gets bigger and so does your soul and heart and dreams.
And I still will not settle. I will wait. I will wait for the man with the broken heart and haunted past – who is meant for me.
The first I knew of true love – unconditional, pure love was when I gave birth. They say that will be the case to first time mothers (and fathers.) “The minute you lay eyes on that baby, THEN you’ll know what love is.” ‘They’ were right.
Although, if I’m being honest, when Nicholas Avery Charles was laid in my arms, and when I looked down and said my first word to him “Hi.” I didn’t feel that intense burst of love right away.
I felt like a terrible mother then – wasn’t there supposed to be internal fireworks going on? A sudden and profound new-found feeling of the maternal variety?
I was madly in love with my son when I carried him. I loved every hiccup, every kick. I spoke to him – I caressed my belly and imagined what my baby would look like, what he or she would sound like. I chose not to know the sex of my baby – I found out (obviously) when the doctor announced “It’s a son.”
I missed being pregnant for a little while after he was born. I truly missed it. Perhaps it felt safer carrying him inside of me – where he was alive and mine and protected from the world. I don’t know.
Oh, the postpartum love came. It came like a love tsunami – my heart was filled to overflowing.
I barely let him sleep in his crib at home. I would ‘accidentally’ bump into it so that he would wake up. “OH! Are you awake? Let me hold you.” And for hours I would breathe in the scent of him as he fell back asleep on my chest.
I loved my son with a heart I didn’t know I had.
I would lay down and die for my son if need be.
I would do anything to ensure he has a chance for a life filled with memories, love, hope, dreams and wonder.
And … I would send him away from me.
And I am.
And I hope that he finds those things on his journey. I’m giving him all I have to give, an opportunity. A ticket to see more than his small home town. A chance.
Perhaps years from now, he’ll sit outside as a storm brews and recall this upcoming adventure – lose himself in thought with a smile on his face. Then go back inside of his home and share a story with his family.
Graduation
I drove away from the event center last night where my son had just graduated, alone.
I had a Gwen Stefani CD in the CD player and I felt a shift as the coin of acceptance dropped and I belted out “Ain’t no Hollaback Girl” along with Gwen.
Everything felt just … right.
Nic left the event with his girlfriend, my parents left together and I left with a smile on my face.
I have been so scared of the rapid changes in the dynamics of my relationship with Nic this past year! I needn’t have been.
Here I was worrying about where I would fit in his life. Here (Literally right here) I was worrying whether or not I’d done enough for him – done the right things by him.
Then, in the parking lot right after graduation, he picked my mom up in a hug and then shook my dads hand, and POOF! The worry dissipated.
I mentally dusted my hands with a ‘well, that’s-that then’ resolve, and a peace settled in.
It was sort of like hearing your little one say “thank you” without being prompted for the first time, or seeing them hold the door open for someone (Okay, I still feel a surge of pride when he does those things.)
In a single moment, I glimpsed Nic, the young man, and I was simultaneously proud of him and awash with an odd sensation of freedom. Freedom from worry.
When I got home, (after uploading a bazillion photos to my ipad and managing to blow my icloud memory out of the sky) I had a little time alone to reflect.
And in reflecting I was SO grateful!
I thought about all the people who had a hand, directly or indirectly, in raising my son with me.
Yes, I’m a single mom, but a whole slew of people have been instrumental in the successful rearing of my child. (And now I’m cracking up thinking of the quote from ‘Knocked Up’: Jay: I’m going to be there to rear your child. Jason: You hear that, Ben? Don’t let him near the kid, he wants to rear your child!)
I was completely filled with appreciation and memories. Gratitude and love.
I wanted to thank every single person individually. There are people who don’t even realize how much of an impact they had on my journey as a mom.
So I try to tell people who touch my life that they have. I try to remember to thank and acknowledge the people I love, the people who love me back – and the people who love Nic.
And in that moment, when Nic had my mother in his arms – and my dads hand in his – I knew he was doing the same thing.
Checking accounts and cupcakes
Gawd. One minute you’re waxing poetic about your child entering a new phase in their life, then you come home from work to him draped over his girlfriend on the couch.
Earlier, he stopped by my place of employment after school and we ended up going to the bank to open a checking account for him. You KNOW I regretted not having my camera on me. Another milestone for the scrapbook. Two major events … in one day. How much more could a future-cat-lady mom handle?
On my way home I popped into the store for dog food and got him a ceremonial cupcake to honor his big day. 🙂
(I figured I’d do the big cake thing on Tuesday, when he dons his cap and gown.)
He proceeded to find said cupcake. “For me??” I grinned, “Yes, for the last day of school.” I was feeling all warm and fuzzy at the joy in his little eyes.
My heart swelled as he reached for a knife and cut it in half. Awwwwwwww!
Then scurried off to share it with his lady.
Pfffft.
It’s all happening so fast!!! Checking accounts, girlfriends – not sharing cake with me!
So I’m alone with the dog – and it’s Friday night … Okay, if I’m being honest, the dog isn’t even that interested in hanging out with me. Probably she knows I’m a future cat lady and is mulling that prospect over.
So anyway, I’m getting yet another glimpse of my Life After Child. Lac. Very close to Lack. Coincidence? I think not.
I suddenly live with an adult who is out of school.
Holy cow.
And I’m posting stupid ecards on Facebook in between vacuuming and wondering whether or not to put my pajamas on yet.
I don’t know how ‘Amanda’ yet.
It occurs to me, this is going to be a transition for us both. Me, learning how to pull myself from his gravity field, and him … learning I still want to be offered half a cupcake.
Keep calm (mom) and graduate …
Today is the last day of High School for my son.
The last day I shuffled to his room holding breakfast in one hand and flicking his light on with the other.
The last day I turned off his fan, turned off his alarm clock and called his name.
“Nic … wake up.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. I feel everything like I’m reading either a hilarious or very touching Hallmark card when it comes to my son.
I left him as I normally do – blinking and squinting at the light. Propping himself up on his elbow and less than enthusiastically working the spoon.
Then I make coffee – and peer in to his room from the kitchen to be sure he didn’t lay back down and close his eyes.
Like most parents, I’ve taken a photo of Nic on each ‘First Day of School’ through the years. This morning was bittersweet as I coerced him into some ‘Last Day of School’ photos.
I wanted the half hour that we sit together, watching the news in the living room, to last forever.
The clock wasn’t magically participating in my desire to prolong the moment – time was not slowing. Pffft.
He grabbed his items – I followed him out to the porch. Watched as he unlocked the car, opened the door. I recorded his exit – like the annoying photog I can be.
Then he drove away.
Just like that.
I sat with my coffee thinking back. What else will I never do again?
I’ll never argue with him about calling in sick. I’ll never write another excuse note or permission slip. I’ll never attend another open house – or meet his teachers. (Unless I bump into a college professor, hopefully!)
I’ll never shop for uniform tops again or have to dig for lunch money on Monday mornings. Never again hear his principal on Sundays announcing the upcoming week’s school events. No more school pictures, tripping over his backpack, registering for a new year, nagging him about homework or listening to him share his day …
I tried to find a silver lining – and the only thing I could think of is: I won’t have to set my alarm for 6 am anymore.
Who knows what’s next. Hopefully I’ll have raised enough money for him to go to the UK in July – then … it’s his call.
Gulp.
I remember being SO excited when school was ending – then having a sobering moment of ‘Oh … wait. This is REAL.’
I don’t know if he’s had that thought yet.
But when he does, I’ll be here for him. And I’ll support him in whatever step he wants to take.












