Sixteen years ago I was laying in the hospital, looking at this squirming, squalling baby waiting for nourishment and touch and all I could think was - I am not ready for this. I am terrible at committment - I have great plans, even good starts, but I don't finish. This wasn't something I could set down and look at, contemplate finishing, and never get back to. What, I wondered, have I done?
He was a good baby. He wasn't much of a crier - except the night he was cutting molars. Even when he was three months old and sick enough to be hospitalized - he didn't cry much. I looked at him in his hospital bed - oxygen in the nose, IVs in his arm, heart monitars on his chest, and I thought, I am not ready for this. He was helpless and I was helpless to help him. He went into respritory distress twice. It was that nightmare come true.
We both lived through it and he thrived.
Seasons came and went and me, an at home mom, devoted myself to him. Then, it was time for Headstart - and I thought to myself - I am not ready for this! He's a baby! What if he needs me and he cries all day? Well, he did cry all day - and just about everyday after that and into Kindergarten. But, he lived, and so did I. Frankly I revelled in my new found freedom. Even got a job! I was pretty comfortable with him in his controlled environment. Then sports started. He played t-ball then real baseball. "You can pick him up in about 2 hours" his coach told me. I looked around. Three men a and about 15 6- and 7- year olds. Was he kidding me? I was not ready for that. The road was a good 200 yards away, the highway on the other side of the field was just right over there. Leave him alone? He could run into traffic, get hit by a fly ball or a bat! But, I left. I had too - he the kid told me to in that 6 year old language of running off without looking back.
He traversed into tackle football, Jr. High and High School - and each time I was not ready. I feel so close to him. I don't want him hurt.
Today - he has turned 16. I really am not ready. I tease him. You know, I tell him, when you graduate and turn 18, you're out of here! You'll cry when I move, he tells me. And I will. I cry now which each big and small milestone. This year as I filled out the order form for his school pictures, it dawned on me - this is the last pack of these I'll buy. The next time around it will be senior photos. And the rest is all coming - Proms, class ring, cap and gown, Pomp and Circumstance.
And I, once again, am not ready.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Alumni Weekend
I was planning to go - really I was. I had anticipated going to Siena Heights for months. This was my 25th reunion and good friends I hadn't seen in ages were going.
I didn't have the final say, however, my health did. The week before the trip, I elected to stay home due to some medical tests. Something was wrong with my thyroid and at that point they didn't know what to expect and I didn't know what to expect.
The week of the reunion, I was given a diagnosis of Thyroiditis - which, according to my doctor, will turn into hypothyroidism. One symptom I struggle with is staying awake - I am exhausted driving the 13 miles between my house and town. It was thought best that I stay home.
But this isn't about that and it isn't about what I missed. I didn't miss a thing.
What this is about is three friends who made sure I was there - if not in person then by text.
We shared memories, laughs, advice and views. Not political views - actual views! You see, they sent me pictures of the places they went that they knew I would like to see. An Example? None of them wrote for the paper I so diligently edited. Yet, they sent me a picture of my old haunt.
I received a few 'Do you remember when' texts and I texted back I did and 'do you remember when' went back to them.
"We're going to Sunnyside" they sent me on Saturday evening. "Have a taco for me" I requested. And they did.
And, you know, I never felt like I was not there. I put on my ipod and listened to some music I listened to then - the Rolling Stones, Bruce, Journey. I was there.
I hope they want to go back and I hope soon. But if one of them can't? Well they will be there by text because that is what friends - what good friends, lifelong friends do.
I didn't have the final say, however, my health did. The week before the trip, I elected to stay home due to some medical tests. Something was wrong with my thyroid and at that point they didn't know what to expect and I didn't know what to expect.
The week of the reunion, I was given a diagnosis of Thyroiditis - which, according to my doctor, will turn into hypothyroidism. One symptom I struggle with is staying awake - I am exhausted driving the 13 miles between my house and town. It was thought best that I stay home.
But this isn't about that and it isn't about what I missed. I didn't miss a thing.
What this is about is three friends who made sure I was there - if not in person then by text.
We shared memories, laughs, advice and views. Not political views - actual views! You see, they sent me pictures of the places they went that they knew I would like to see. An Example? None of them wrote for the paper I so diligently edited. Yet, they sent me a picture of my old haunt.
I received a few 'Do you remember when' texts and I texted back I did and 'do you remember when' went back to them.
"We're going to Sunnyside" they sent me on Saturday evening. "Have a taco for me" I requested. And they did.
And, you know, I never felt like I was not there. I put on my ipod and listened to some music I listened to then - the Rolling Stones, Bruce, Journey. I was there.
I hope they want to go back and I hope soon. But if one of them can't? Well they will be there by text because that is what friends - what good friends, lifelong friends do.
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