Breaking a Mold
So my son calls and he is in Belgium. The phone call is matter of fact and eerily like he is only a few miles away. It felt the same the day he called from North Pole, Alaska just to reassure his mother who was anxiously awaiting word of a safe journey. The first airplane flight he could actually recall, he had only flown once before as an infant and he chooses to fly for 14 hours and settle in to Alaskan culture for 4 months.
This child of mine, or should I say man-child has seen more, experienced more and traveled to more places than I or his father ever dreamt of. He describes himself as an “old soul”. I always said they broke the mold, thank you very much; we could not have stood another one just like him. When he was 15 yrs old I thought about killing him. And quite honestly he really thought I was going to from where I was positioned, my knees on his arms and my hand on his throat. It was the last time he ever said “shut up” to me as I turned into the hovering “Neo” character from the Matrix and floated off of six stairs and hit him square between the shoulder blades as he thought he was exiting the front lawn. The next words I heard were from my six foot two son lying prone on the ground under me, “Please don’t murder me Mom” expressed with a sound of fear.
My son, he is a handsome man, creative and challenging at best. He loves his extremes. Last weekend he called me from Key West talking of six toed cats and how much he loved the beach. This week he calls from the Formula 1 race track in Brussels. Let’s play the “Where’s Russell” game for next weeks traveling adventure.
Even if I missed the chance to travel the world, I am thankful I have gotten to experience a bit of its wonderment through the eyes of my child.
Now see, if I had relented and murdered him, while spewing the threat to make another one just like him, I don’t think the “new one” would have been quite this adventurous.
Some days I am sorry they broke that mold.
This child of mine, or should I say man-child has seen more, experienced more and traveled to more places than I or his father ever dreamt of. He describes himself as an “old soul”. I always said they broke the mold, thank you very much; we could not have stood another one just like him. When he was 15 yrs old I thought about killing him. And quite honestly he really thought I was going to from where I was positioned, my knees on his arms and my hand on his throat. It was the last time he ever said “shut up” to me as I turned into the hovering “Neo” character from the Matrix and floated off of six stairs and hit him square between the shoulder blades as he thought he was exiting the front lawn. The next words I heard were from my six foot two son lying prone on the ground under me, “Please don’t murder me Mom” expressed with a sound of fear.
My son, he is a handsome man, creative and challenging at best. He loves his extremes. Last weekend he called me from Key West talking of six toed cats and how much he loved the beach. This week he calls from the Formula 1 race track in Brussels. Let’s play the “Where’s Russell” game for next weeks traveling adventure.
Even if I missed the chance to travel the world, I am thankful I have gotten to experience a bit of its wonderment through the eyes of my child.
Now see, if I had relented and murdered him, while spewing the threat to make another one just like him, I don’t think the “new one” would have been quite this adventurous.
Some days I am sorry they broke that mold.