I grew up when my son was born. There is nothing like a person being fully dependent on you—their physical, psychological, and emotional being—to get you out of yourself and into an adult, other-centric state of mind. Or not, I suppose. But I chose the grow-up side of things. And as hard as it was, and as tired as I was, I was also so deeply humbled and grateful to be this precious little person’s mom. I was awed then, and I am awed to this day.
We were a twosome, my boy and I, from just a few short weeks after his birth for the first few years of his life. Nothing can replace or supersede the partnership we forged.
He changed me, my Kenny did. He pushed me and reshaped me just by entering my world.
There is a lyric I adore, written by Joan Baez. The song is “Honest Lullaby.” These words in particular lay me out every time:
“And while the others play with you,
I hope to find a way with you
And sometimes spend a day with you.
I’ll catch you as you fly—
Or if I’m worth a mother’s salt
I’ll wave as you go by.”
Honey, keep flying. I’m waving still.
