Reflections as we take another step closer to our eldest son’s future. The college of his choice seems nearly set, praise God. A mama’s heart soars with pride, especially as this boy is continuing to bust autistic stereotypes right and left. Yet, the letting go part a parent is supposed to do? Well…😏
Only a blink ago,
You were that lively little thing,
Popping up to greet me,
Meeting me with the sunniest of
Wholly unperturbed by drooly chin,
Chubby hands outstretched on cue,
Looking to be fetched
From crib’s depth,
Always ready to give the new
A hearty spin.
Yet, it also feels a hundred
A thousand layers of soul-aging
Since our hours were spent
On a child’s carefree explores
Just beyond the nursery door.
We’ve seen so much, you and I
Sometimes, too much, I cannot deny…
Enough to tug a heart’s string
To tendrils strained taut.
Oh, when I remember the raging
Wars we’ve fought!
For soft landings,
For clarity to bind,
For sanity of mind…
Now, here we sit,
Some days, rather spent,
Putting the fatigue
In our battle fatigues- more than just a bit. 😉
Yet, there’s also a hint of a gleam,
A fresh sheen glimmering on the old dream.
And, I admit, I love the new light in your eyes
As the adult begins emerging,
Gently choosing which childish ways to nudge aside,
Youthful character traits
And new responsibilities to begin merging.
Yet, it’s sometimes hard to see
How my part in all this seems to be…
And I wonder where my role
Pencils in best now,
Just what spaces are still light
And which are meant to become
More subtle shading.
Ah, but, then I stumble yet on the moments
I catch the searching wobble
Hidden in your grown man’s voice.
And I see there are areas
Where there lends yet a tint
Of mother’s Godly guidance as
You survey your many, often
The becoming is hard, I know.
I’ve done it.
Still doing it, as life takes me to and fro. 😏
But, I am here, battle-fatigue ready,
Hoping all the best for you, son,
Praying on Him you’ll stand steady,
Prepared for a long and beautiful run.
And, in that, I am reminded how true
It is that roles don’t actually diminish;
They only change shape and hue.
For, we mothers never truly finish,
We only step back from the crib
And, in the Lord’s strength,
Learn to await His ever reliable cues.
Thanks for reading, dear friends! Blessings and prayers! And, look- comment box! 😁Thanks, WP, for at least giving me a new trick to outwit this bug messing with my discussion settings! 😊