Shades of Future Past
"I promise I'll call when I get there," he told me with a smile as he levered himself into the front seat of his beat-up old Focus. Packed around him were boxes and bags filled with everything he'd need to start a new life. Sheets, blankets. Clothes. Pots and pans. His television. His books and his games. All the things he was sure he would need. All the things that said he was moving on and leaving me behind.
I reached in through the window, pasting on a smile to hide my broken heart. I squeezed his hand for a little longer than I needed to, unwilling to let go. "Make sure you do," I replied. "And drive safely." He'd expected the words, just as I had expected the familiar eye roll before his own face broke into a grin.
"100 always," his familiar words came. Words he'd been saying for 14 years whenever he wanted to say "a lot" and that I would miss hearing every day.
I bent in to kiss him quickly on the cheek before he turned the key and started the car. "I love you, Mom!" he yelled out, pulling carefully out of the driveway. His eyes met mine in the side mirror before he turned his head in both directions to check for traffic, then slid on to the road. Far too quickly, his car turned the corner and all that was left of the Focus was a memory.
I blinked back tears, walking inside to a life that hadn't been mine for over 20 years. As I stepped through the door, I could have sworn I heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room to my right.
Are you sure you want to do this?, the deep voice of my 18 year old asked.
Of course, came the slightly higher voice of his 15 year old brother. I mean, it's going to be our last chance to before you become a big college man. Unless you're scared... the voice taunted.
Oh, you're ON! was the reply. Before me sat my sons, wireless game controllers in their hands, their favorite fighting game on the television as they faced off for one last duel before my eldest's car took him to a college 600 miles away. I still remembered the day, the last time my heart felt so broken. But, I had consoled myself then, I still had my baby home with me. Three more years until he would leave me. Three years moved too quickly. My eyes filled with tears and, as brushed them away, the vision faded, leaving my living room bare of boys, the old game system sitting under the TV, controllers abandoned.
As I turned from the room, another sound reached my ears, this time from the kitchen. The clatter of spoons in bowls, punctuated by whispers to low for me to hear. Turning the corner, I could see my boys,14 and 11, heads bent together over a bowl filled with chocolate cake batter. Flour dusted my counters, my floor, and them.
We need to be quiet, my eldest told my youngest, his voice soft. We don't want Mom to catch on.
I know, my youngest replied waspishly. She won't find out from me.
I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I still remembered that day, walking in to find my kitchen covered with flour, a slightly tilted chocolate cake with vanilla frosting holding a position of honor in the center of the table. Happy birthday, Mom they called out in unison. I couldn't be mad at them. It was the thought that counted. And my husband was even nice enough to help them with the clean up before dinner. Slowly, this image also faded from my eyes as I glanced through the sliding glass doors to our backyard.
Two boys stood next to one another, my youngest's blond hair shining in the sunlight. My youngest's blond hair shone in the same sun that glinted off my eldest's glasses. In my youngest's hand, he held out his Flash headband to his brother.
I be Hulk and you be Flash, the high voice of a four year old drifted to me.
Who are we gonna fight?, replied the older voice of a seven year old.
Inbibible man, came the four year old's reply.
As I watched, I could see them as they were then. My big seven year old, glasses sliding down his nose as he smiled at his much smaller brother. The two of them, standing side by side in fighting poses, as they smashed and ran around their invisible enemy. They knew the value of teamwork. They worked so well together.
I moved on as the shadows of yesterday once again slid away. I found myself drawn to the room that had, at one time, been shared by both my boys. For the last three years, it belonged solely to my youngest. It had taken on his personality - the action figures, the books, his trophies for track and field, his Pokemon cards. So many of these things were now packed in the back of the car that was driving away. The room now held only his furniture, his bed well made, tape marks on the wall where posters had once held places of honor.
A part of me wanted to avoid the room. He'd been gone for all of 20 minutes and already, I wanted him back. But one last voice from the past called to me, and I knew I needed to follow it.
Mama! Mama! I need tisses and huds! Peease!
Stepping into his bedroom, I was no longer faced with the shadow children of yesterday. The room was exactly as I knew it would be. Except for one thing - a small pillow, faded blue and patched, lay on top of the the more mundane pillows. Plo. His best friend for so many years. And propped against it was a folded piece of paper with the word Mama written in his messy handwriting.
I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the note to me as I opened it.
Mama,
I know how hard it is for you to see me leave today. I remember how sad you were when Ted left for college, and how glad you were whenever he came home. And I know it will be the same now that we'll both be gone. I can't tell you not to be sad, Mom, but I can tell you that it will be alright. We'll both be home for winter break, and then you'll wish you could have both of us gone! (Ha ha!) You and Dad prepared both of us to go out in the world and be successful, and that is what I'm trying to do. I know you understand, even if you're going to miss me.
I wish I could prepare you as well as you two prepared me. The best I can do is leave my best friend here for you to 'nuggle' when you're sad. Pretend it's me when I was little and hold me tight. I love you, Mama. My heart will always be full of hugs and kisses for you.
Love,
Pete
Setting the note aside, I pulled Plo to me and 'nuggled' him close. Tears once more spilled from my eyes, but this time, I smiled as they came down. I did teach my boys well. And I knew he - and I - would be alright.
I wrote this post for the prompt Shadow Children for week 4 of LJ Idol, Exhibit B. It's fiction based on my relationship with my boys today, but placed 14 years in the future. It's how I hope things will be. I hope you enjoy it.
I reached in through the window, pasting on a smile to hide my broken heart. I squeezed his hand for a little longer than I needed to, unwilling to let go. "Make sure you do," I replied. "And drive safely." He'd expected the words, just as I had expected the familiar eye roll before his own face broke into a grin.
"100 always," his familiar words came. Words he'd been saying for 14 years whenever he wanted to say "a lot" and that I would miss hearing every day.
I bent in to kiss him quickly on the cheek before he turned the key and started the car. "I love you, Mom!" he yelled out, pulling carefully out of the driveway. His eyes met mine in the side mirror before he turned his head in both directions to check for traffic, then slid on to the road. Far too quickly, his car turned the corner and all that was left of the Focus was a memory.
I blinked back tears, walking inside to a life that hadn't been mine for over 20 years. As I stepped through the door, I could have sworn I heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room to my right.
Are you sure you want to do this?, the deep voice of my 18 year old asked.
Of course, came the slightly higher voice of his 15 year old brother. I mean, it's going to be our last chance to before you become a big college man. Unless you're scared... the voice taunted.
Oh, you're ON! was the reply. Before me sat my sons, wireless game controllers in their hands, their favorite fighting game on the television as they faced off for one last duel before my eldest's car took him to a college 600 miles away. I still remembered the day, the last time my heart felt so broken. But, I had consoled myself then, I still had my baby home with me. Three more years until he would leave me. Three years moved too quickly. My eyes filled with tears and, as brushed them away, the vision faded, leaving my living room bare of boys, the old game system sitting under the TV, controllers abandoned.
As I turned from the room, another sound reached my ears, this time from the kitchen. The clatter of spoons in bowls, punctuated by whispers to low for me to hear. Turning the corner, I could see my boys,14 and 11, heads bent together over a bowl filled with chocolate cake batter. Flour dusted my counters, my floor, and them.
We need to be quiet, my eldest told my youngest, his voice soft. We don't want Mom to catch on.
I know, my youngest replied waspishly. She won't find out from me.
I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I still remembered that day, walking in to find my kitchen covered with flour, a slightly tilted chocolate cake with vanilla frosting holding a position of honor in the center of the table. Happy birthday, Mom they called out in unison. I couldn't be mad at them. It was the thought that counted. And my husband was even nice enough to help them with the clean up before dinner. Slowly, this image also faded from my eyes as I glanced through the sliding glass doors to our backyard.
Two boys stood next to one another, my youngest's blond hair shining in the sunlight. My youngest's blond hair shone in the same sun that glinted off my eldest's glasses. In my youngest's hand, he held out his Flash headband to his brother.
I be Hulk and you be Flash, the high voice of a four year old drifted to me.
Who are we gonna fight?, replied the older voice of a seven year old.
Inbibible man, came the four year old's reply.
As I watched, I could see them as they were then. My big seven year old, glasses sliding down his nose as he smiled at his much smaller brother. The two of them, standing side by side in fighting poses, as they smashed and ran around their invisible enemy. They knew the value of teamwork. They worked so well together.
I moved on as the shadows of yesterday once again slid away. I found myself drawn to the room that had, at one time, been shared by both my boys. For the last three years, it belonged solely to my youngest. It had taken on his personality - the action figures, the books, his trophies for track and field, his Pokemon cards. So many of these things were now packed in the back of the car that was driving away. The room now held only his furniture, his bed well made, tape marks on the wall where posters had once held places of honor.
A part of me wanted to avoid the room. He'd been gone for all of 20 minutes and already, I wanted him back. But one last voice from the past called to me, and I knew I needed to follow it.
Mama! Mama! I need tisses and huds! Peease!
Stepping into his bedroom, I was no longer faced with the shadow children of yesterday. The room was exactly as I knew it would be. Except for one thing - a small pillow, faded blue and patched, lay on top of the the more mundane pillows. Plo. His best friend for so many years. And propped against it was a folded piece of paper with the word Mama written in his messy handwriting.
I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the note to me as I opened it.
Mama,
I know how hard it is for you to see me leave today. I remember how sad you were when Ted left for college, and how glad you were whenever he came home. And I know it will be the same now that we'll both be gone. I can't tell you not to be sad, Mom, but I can tell you that it will be alright. We'll both be home for winter break, and then you'll wish you could have both of us gone! (Ha ha!) You and Dad prepared both of us to go out in the world and be successful, and that is what I'm trying to do. I know you understand, even if you're going to miss me.
I wish I could prepare you as well as you two prepared me. The best I can do is leave my best friend here for you to 'nuggle' when you're sad. Pretend it's me when I was little and hold me tight. I love you, Mama. My heart will always be full of hugs and kisses for you.
Love,
Pete
Setting the note aside, I pulled Plo to me and 'nuggled' him close. Tears once more spilled from my eyes, but this time, I smiled as they came down. I did teach my boys well. And I knew he - and I - would be alright.
I wrote this post for the prompt Shadow Children for week 4 of LJ Idol, Exhibit B. It's fiction based on my relationship with my boys today, but placed 14 years in the future. It's how I hope things will be. I hope you enjoy it.