My Boy Is Gone

Years ago there was a mother who knelt before her six-year old son and whispered these words,

If you'll just put on that gown, I'll buy you that dinosaur you've been wanting.

The son replied with a silent shake of his head.

If you'll just put on that gown, I'll buy you that Power Ranger you've been wanting.

Again, a silent and solemn shake of the head.

If you'll just put on that stupid gown (said through gritted teeth), I'll buy you ANYTHING you want.

Time stood still.
The mother waited.
The boy pondered.

And then replied with a silent shake of his head.

The mother gave up. The son had won. Within minutes the procession song played and the boy marched. The only boy in a small group of girls. The only boy without a white cap and gown.

And the mother could care less.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yep. That was me. Not one of my finer parenting moments, I can promise you that, but a moment to be remembered nonetheless. I wanted so badly to see the perfect picture that I almost missed a perfect moment.

I've never forgotten that.

The slap to my parenting face came when his name was called and he walked across the stage to accept his kindergarten diploma. I can remember holding my breath to see if he would actually make that walk or not. When he did take those first steps and managed to shake the hands of the three adults onstage, the fact that he was not decked out in his graduation attire became utterly meaningless. A major accomplishment had just taken place. He had not been manipulated into something he was not comfortable with, and yet he had stepped up to the plate and made an uncomfortable walk across a stage in front of a crowd of people. It really was a big deal. Later, after the congratulations and pictures and cake, when it was just him and me, he put on that cap and gown and let me take a picture. Even to this day that is one of the most precious photos I have in my possession and I wouldn't share it for the world.

A private moment. An understood compromise. A lesson learned.

Why am I thinking of a Sunday afternoon that took place a little over twelve years ago? Because yesterday another moment grabbed me and for a brief moment, locked me in a time warp where time stood still and reversed itself all in the same instant. I watched that same boy, with a senior year schedule and textbooks in hand, walk down a hall in search of his locker. His back was to me, his shoulders straight, his confidence high. I blinked and caught a glimpse of my little six-year old and my eyes began to water.

My boy is gone and a man has taken his place.

Time goes by too darn fast.



And not to be forgotten, the youngest successfully earned her driver's permit yesterday afternoon. It's no wonder I was the middle-aged woman standing in a high school hallway shaking my head and wiping away a tear. I'm just like my mother. =)