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I loved him and I miss him. So much. His laughter was infectious, his smile enormous – seemed like endless rows of baby teeth. He was such a little man-man…all boy. Rough and tumble, obnoxious, mischievous, sneaky, active – but still such a little lover. He was a true mama’s boy.
I watched a home movie some time ago, and I heard him crying. I had forgotten what that sounded like – his particular cry. The way he would call for me, needing me, knowing that I would make it better. My heart dropped…hearing that distress, listening to him calling me. I felt this panic. I needed to get to him. Every cell within me was desperate to be with him…but I couldn’t. He is no longer here.
I do mourn his absence sometimes, I can’t deny that. And as difficult as it is at those times to see the remnants of him in the man who stands where he used to – I can still find him there. I see him in those big brown eyes and dimples. I smell him in that same spot on the crown of his head that I have always loved to smell and kiss at the same time. I hear him when he’s not looking for Mom, but calling instead for Mama. I feel him, although I can’t get as much of my arms around him now, when I close my eyes and give a sweet embrace. There he is…still here.
He has been replaced by some six-foot tall, deep-voiced, muscular, high school senior. He is still obnoxious and his laugh is still contagious so not everything has changed. Tonight though, on the eve of his eighteenth birthday, I wish I could hold my first-born baby just one more time. To rock him to a toddler dreamland, to walk him into his kindergarten class, to wake up and find him cuddled up next to me, to be able to take away all his hurts with a single mama kiss…just one more time. Hmmmm.
I know this has been the plight of mothers for centuries – watching their sons become men. I just didn’t know that while I merely blinked, a little boy would morph into someone his daddy’s size. I will be okay though…how could I not be when what I have now is equally as phenomenal as what I had then?
Happy eighteenth birthday, my precious first-born child. No matter what size you are…I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living – my baby you’ll be.