I'm trying to sleep tonight, but a lump in my throat keeps me awake. Tomorrow, is here. The morning that I've put out of my head, preferring to not think about, has come. I'll drive my oldest son to school today for the last time. After that, he leaves in just ten weeks for his own life. I shake my head at the unreality of reality and keep saying to myself, 18 years? That was no 18 years -- someone's lying.
Life overwhelms me right now. The feelings of love and attachment too large to contain that they push against my heart and throat. I try to keep them in this week and they look for any way out, springing tears from my eyes or making the sound of my voice like a tight string. As if I'm girding up against a watershed of emotion that will flatten me.
Today is his last day of school from a place where he's been every morning that I've woken up. I am disoriented, muddled, in the daze of a new land. I am proud, thrilled, intoxicated, delighted, grateful, honored, at having been his mother.
This morning is like that day when he was first placed in my arms, swaddled tight, and it felt like a ceremony. Like the world was trusting me with the most important thing on the planet. The warmth and weight of him surprised me. I looked down at his face, so in love with him, wanting to say
I'm your mom
You're my son
My mouth opened and closed, croaking out nothing, only tasting the salt of my tears instead.
I love you, Alec. I love you, so much. This life passes quickly, though I can't say it sneaks up on us. I've been looking over my shoulder these years, knowing this day was always there. Thank you, my son, this time of you as my little boy, has been the most wonderful of my life.
*Here is the little man above, today:
* * *
