|| I HAVE A SON ||
I have a son, who is my heart. A wonderful young man, daring and loving and strong and kind. ~ Maya Angelou
Tomorrow, my son Hunter is moving out and taking an apartment with his best friend Bane and their friend Jonah. When he first told me he would be moving I just sobbed and sobbed, which surprised me because I have always tried to be the kind of mom who encouraged my children to try new things and live life to its fullest. But that doesn't mean I can't have feelings about it, of course. But, this is my first one to fly the nest - tell me, mamas, does it get any easier? My logical brain knows this is a step Hunter has to take for autonomy, and I remember how excited I was when I moved into my own apartment - Hunter is 20; I think I was around 22. I had to come home twice before I finally got my bearings and moved out permanently after college. There's a little part of me that hopes Hunter will need to come home, but I chastise myself and tell myself I can't be selfish. He needs his experiences and I need to wish him the best in all his endeavors. So, a few things I want to say.
Hunter, whenever I read one of those listicles called "Don't Ever Name Your Son This Name!" I always find "Hunter" on the list. It's too violent, the list says. It's too aggressive! Well, your father and I chose your name because it is strong. It is not overly common. How many other Hunters were there in your classes, hmm (compared to, say, Aidans or Jacobs? Remember how there were four Jacobs in your fifth grade class?). Be proud of your name - we are!
We used to always say about you, "Still waters run deep." You think about things deeply - this is a good thing!
Sometimes I catch a certain look on your face, like you've been around longer than both your father and me: You are an old soul.
Continue to take bites out of life - it never hurts to try something. I don't want you to ever know the feeling that comes with looking back with regret.
I will miss your inquisitiveness every day ("Mom, does a werewolf have werefleas?" - age 3).
I will miss your witty observations every day ("Mom, if you had a jaw like a snake, you could eat a whole watermelon!" - age 6).
Stay kind and thoughtful.
Take care with how many tattoos you get - you may find what you want on your body now may not be what you end up wanting twenty years from now.
Don't ever smoke.
Let me pamper you still, on occasion.
Let's still go for breakfast here and there.
Don't give up your music - you're so talented at it!
Please forgive me for not being the type of mom you probably expected or needed. If I could change one thing about myself it would be to not have a mental illness that so directly affected you and your sister. I never wanted that for either of you. It is, indeed, unfair. Thank you, though, for your kindness when my symptoms acted up. It is surely not easy to have a mentally ill parent. My love for you and Ariel was, at times, what got me out of bed in the mornings. Recently you told me you just wanted to see me get better - I'm so much better, but know I will always keep working on my health. There are always strides to be made.
From the first time I held you until now, and forever, I will always love you profoundly.
How did twenty years go by so quickly?
I love you,
Mom
