((I'm writing this from what I think my mother's perspective would be if she could maybe see me and talk to me today. Maybe shge'd say more. Maybe differently. Maybe she'd cuss a lot. My mom was that kind of lady. I love her and I miss her.))
Racing, running, trying to catch you. I lose my breath and smile as you start to celebrate you've won our little race. Your curly brown hair flowing in the wind. A wisp of air tickles the grass and rustles up some leaves, carrying with it the scent of the fresh flowers that've sprung up all around the playground. They drink up the sun like your skin does. Better put on some sunscreen on you. "Come over here sweetie!" I call out to you. Smiling again as you waddle through the grass. So young are you that you're not moving in a straight line, but you're confident enough that you run fast, just a missed step from a face pounding neck snapping crash.... At least, that's how mothers see it. Catching you and spinning you around as I pick you up, and set you back down, I reach into the diaper bag and grab the lotion.
Fast forward a few years, damn it only feels like a few. Yet there you are, standing on the stage and shaking your principals hand as he give you the diploma. What happened to the time? Oh that's right. You grew up and became a person, with your own thoughts and dreams. You became independent, you dyed your hair blond and blue and black. You lied to me and I grounded you. Well, that was a couple of the weeks in the years gone by anyways. But all in all, you've done good kid. I smile as I watch you step down and join your girlfriend in the crowd. You all turn your tassels to the other side and celebrate and hug.
When I look back, I think about the man you've become. Working hard to support your family, and raising my grandson. We haven't seen much of each other, but that's okay. I know you are a private person, you always have been. But I see you. And I love you son. And now it's time for the dreaded phone call. I've decided to let your sister deliver the news. I can't do it, considering the constant pain I'm in. Here in the hospital, they do what they can to help, but it makes my mind slip, and I can't talk straight any more.
Just a few more months later and I see you, sitting in your home alone. You're crying because I'm gone and you miss me. You're all alone because she left you, and took your son. You screwed up. I'm not sure if it's because of how I raised you, or because you wanted to be independent and didn't follow my teachings. Regardless, I can't be there to help you now and it hurts my soul as I watch from afar. But I see you. And I love you son.
I'm glad you fixed what was wrong with you. And I'm glad to see my grandson living at home again. I love that little boy. I'm so glad I got to meet him before my final days. I hear you whisper to your wife that you want another baby. I'm so sad that I can't be there to meet him or her, but you know it's not my fault. I hear you say it all the time. And I hear you say "I'm sorry" when you're all alone and I wish I could tell you that it's okay. I see you son. And it's okay. And I love you.
Now if you don't mind, I'd like to rewind this movie about my son that I get to watch whenever I want and play it all back again. I'm not gonna skip any parts either. Meanwhile, you go live your life and make more memories. And when the time is right, I'll see you my son. I love you.
Created: Feb 21, 2014The Wirries Document Media