'Come visit' - he said.
'Come see my new space...my new apartment.' 'Come see me in my grown-up life in my grown-up city.' 'It's beautiful' - he promised - 'in the spring.'
And so..it was. How a mother spent a weekend with her son in his new home. Altho exactly as it's supposed to be..and exactly as expected - the reality of it somehow took me by complete surprise. This infant who fit so snugly in the comfort of my arms..this child who held my hand..who cried when I dropped him at his school's door..who never wanted me to leave his side - has left mine.
Yes - it happened slowly..and gradually and over time. First - it was off to college..and then a first job and shared dwelling space with others. Grown and gone..but not yet settled. Always a sense..a hope perhaps - in my mind - of impermanence. As if - at any moment - he might return again and be that little boy who lived in his little room in this little house.
But now - in his own tiny little postage-stamp of an apartment..working..paying his own bills..cooking his own meals..doing his own laundry - there was for me an all-of-a-sudden realization that this is very permanent and oh-so-very-real. That returning to his mother's home is no longer an option. That my baby boy has grown up..and is now living a grown-up life of his own.
They come thru us. Really - they are ours for such a very short time.
Altho my rational head knows it and leads the way..my heart is still running to catch-up. Still - I find myself grasping..holding on..searching for signs of that little boy that was once all mine.
Letting go. Oh-so-very-slowly. One little finger at a time.
They do grow.
They do go.