What I Wish They Could See
The other day, after my son got home from school, we chatted a bit, he got a snack and as I hung out there he said to me...
"Why are you just...watching me?" With a grimace on his face.
And, after the initial sting of this wore off, I paused to think about this. In my mind, I wasn't actively watching him eat. That would be weird. Truth is, I just was enjoying his company. I was reveling in the connection we'd just had a few minutes prior, that seem few and far between these days. I was thinking about how wonderful I think he is, how fun he is to talk to, how handsome he is, how grown up.
How much I love him and can't believe I get to be his mom.
How far we've come through some difficult situations. How much I worry about him. How I wish I could have all the answers. How proud I am of him. How talented he is. How he doesn't know it.
Because that's what this mom, ALL moms do. We look at our children and have all the feels, all at once. And we're always watching.
We watched and marveled over you when we first held you in our arms.
We watched you sleep. We watched you breathe. We even put our fingers to your little nose to make sure.
We watched and worried about you when you were sick.
We watched you play.
We watched you struggle.
We watched you succeed.
We saw you when you thought no one else did.
We will always, always see you. We watch to make sure we do.
You thought I was watching you eat. What I saw was the little twinkle in your eye when you told me a story. What I saw was a face that seemed happy. What I saw was a glimpse of the little boy you once were. What I saw was how proud I am of what you're doing. What I saw was a little glimpse into your future. There was so much to "see" in that fleeting moment and maybe I lingered too long. And maybe it was weird.
My time with you is limited. And so precious. And I love you immensely. And there's still so much to see.
And I'm ok with being weird about it.