Dear Deal,
In this season of new beginnings, just let me take the pictures. You squirm with visible impatience while irritation brims over, but understand that as you, forever my baby boy, close doors behind you, I am left in the wake of a new normal. And it’s exactly the nature of things, so I do not begrudge you the milestones that await you. The excitement and anticipation flood me too, and I glow with pride in seeing the young man of character, wit, and charm you have grown into. I want to capture it all. It’s the photos we’ll have to look upon when we miss each other’s daily presence, so while my shutterbug ways are annoying, have patience with me. I’m trying to freeze time, these fleeting moments, in the only way I can.
I know you’re looking at the world with so much ahead of you. The promise of new beginnings fuels your spirit while it slowly saps my reserve. We look at time differently now, the potential of what will be versus the glory of what once was. As you prepare to embark on a new journey, likely hundreds of miles away, you naturally see adventure and freedom. But for a mother’s heart, it’s exactly the opposite.
You know that I am so mushy and treacly sentimental that I am teary even writing this. I too look ahead with so much joy and eagerness alongside you, but I cannot help but think how quickly time has whizzed past. It’s been many years since I’ve been able to hoist you on my hip. You now stand more than a head taller than me, having to bend down just to let me kiss you goodnight. It’s one of the sweetest gestures, actually, the way you lean your head down to me so I can plant a little peck on your forehead. You were a child who was tethered to me as a fifth appendage. Your small hand was always clasped in mine, or your little arms reached up to be held. I carried you until my back ached. I long for that now. I can still feel the warmth of your chubby cheeks leaned into mine as you rested your head on my shoulder.
The crook in my neck is always there to comfort and console you, even as you grow into the giant you have become. Just like the sign over the porch mantel says, “Home is where your story begins.” Go forth and pen the next chapter, but as you prepare to spread your wings, just let me take the pictures.
I love you to the moon and back again.
Mom