I have been absent for a while. I kind of fell out of the boat and was looking for the way to get grounded. My oars seemed to be missing so the paddling was a bit difficult. I think it started at Halloween and then the time change tossed my rhythm totally off kilter. So I decided to just wait it out and see where I landed…or not.
I’m visiting my grown son this weekend for his 46th birthday. I was obviously a child when he was born. There are so many wonderful memories of him as a child and more as an adult. I’ve been blessed to be his mother. (insert crooked smile here).
I just finished reading Texana’s Kitchen post on “How to be thankful for boys.” Her tales about her boys required a tissue or two for the memories it brought up. This woman can write, so please take a few moments for some belly laughs and a tear drop or two. She reminded me of the escapades our children venture on.
The day my son passed drivers education in high school, he forgot how to ride a bike. Ambling in the door with a very bad case of road rash and a swollen mouth, he held his closed hand out until I put mine out to receive what was in it. He handed me his front teeth. I looked at him and quietly asked if he needed to see the dentist or the doctor first. I needed to know if his mouth took the brunt or if there could be a head injury involved. We opted for the dentist. Raising a boy for me was easier than a girl in spite of the boy type activities that brought the usual injuries. My daughter was the one that created situations that made my heart stop beating for a moment or two but that’s another story. The fact that he almost didn’t survive his birth made me appreciate every day I’ve had and will have with him.
I was taught gratitude very early in the game of parenthood. Letting go of control was also a big lesson. We are NEVER really in control. I knew he was kissed by Angels on his birthday as kindness and caring ooze from every fiber of his being. We won’t be spending Thanksgiving together but I am so grateful for each of his birthdays that I was privileged to spend with him. Now that I’ve had my son fix, I feel like I’ve found my oars again and can aim for the land of creativity once again. This will hold me till he comes to spend Christmas with his sister and I.
Have you ever lost your oars and how did you find them? Did you find girls or boys to be more fun or challenging to raise? I know I wouldn’t part with either.
From my heart to yours,