August 2, twenty-one years ago, a boy was born. We knew each other immediately. The conversation had started months before. It was rigorous, intelligent, and heartfelt from the first moment.I suppose I had wondered before that day what it might be like to be a mother, but it wasn’t until that night that I knew for sure. I gave my life to that boy in the most literal sense. I wasn’t there every minute nor was I the mother that he might have ordered. But he is the child of stardust far beyond what I could have imagined, dreamed up, or conjured.
He holds my heart in his eyes. He keeps my soul inside his voice. I grew up watching his progress and found myself as I saw him learn to fly.
His hurts are my tears. His joys are so much less than he deserves. His gifts are a wonder. He doesn’t know how fond people are of him, how they miss him when he leaves a room. He shines so brightly. Folks can’t help but follow his light, can’t help but think about what’s missing when he’s not there.
He is my sun, my stars, my sky. I was with him at the beginning. I will be there until the end.
On August 2, a boy was born. On August 2, a man now stands. Happy birthday, sweet son of mine.
−me strauss Letting me be
6 comments:
Knowing both mother and son, I cannot help but be deeply moved by your post, Liz. I have tears of joy and wonder and pride.
Thank you, Dawn,
He is a special one. I am a lucky mother.
Takes Love to write such a piece. When I read 21, I'm blinded by the Love. Happy birthday to the man. :-)
Thank you from me and from my son.
Hi Liz,
Best wishes to you and your son. :)
What a lucky man he is, to have such a wonderful mother.
Coincidentally, my latest post is also titled "21", but the subject is much different from yours. :)
Hi Dsnake,
Thank you for your kind wishes.
I'll come over to check out the coincidence. :)
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