Hello, gentle readers!
I’m so happy! My son is here visiting for the
weekend. It’s always a pleasure to see him. He’s living in Dallas
He’s a good son. Hard-working. Kind (though, I will
admit, he has an intolerance for stupidity, which he probably got from me).
And, like his father, he makes me laugh…which started in the car on the way
home from the airport.
That’s not to say it was always this way. His
teenage years were rough, but we persevered. I tried to keep the lines of
communication open, though sometimes it was hard (you remember those teenage
years, don’t you? Ask a question and get a grunt in response? Yeah, there was a
lot of grunting going on back then).
But as with everything, things changed. He grew up
(almost without me seeing it) and became an adult and the lines of
communication opened up once more, though the conversations were different. He
wasn’t the little boy anymore who liked to be read to and cuddled (yeah, I’m a
hugger). He wasn’t the teenager who looked at me like I had “Stupid” tattooed
across my forehead (fortunately for me, that tattoo faded the day he admitted I
was right about so many things!)
Sometimes, I miss that little boy sitting on my lap
while I read to him (his favorite story was “Are You My Mother?” He loved the
noises I made), but I love the man he’s become and every once in a while, when
he looks at me, I get to see that little boy grin.
By the time you read this, he’ll be gone, back to
his own home, but until we visit again, I will treasure this time I was able to
spend with him.
Marie
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