My Boy.

I wrote this piece during my son's last year in high school. I kind of like it. It's sad because It shows how much I still thought of my husband and me as a single unit. But i don't have a title. It was for Greg and for Charlie, who, that summer, signed up with the Navy on a deferred enlistment.

I am thankful for this long goodbye.
My motherhood--
Our parenthood--
The years with our little children
deserve nothing less.

The years of our stumbling and struggle,
The years we learned to bandage wounds
and kiss boo boos,
never understanding it was practice
for the aching hearts and pain to come.
All the young years, longing for physical rest
preparing us for the emotional and mental exhaustion to come.

I am thankful for this year...
to savor the sound
of my son's strong footfalls
coming up the stairs,
the constant chimes of his text messages when he is home,
the smell of his soap in the bathroom after his shower,
the earthy clay smell from his football shoes in the back of his car.

I am thankful for how he stands in the kitchen, in my way,
watching me cook, waiting for his momma's dinner,
for the way his music pulses its bass
through the very frame of our home.
I am thankful for the times his friends come to dinner.,
for the assortment of dishes and plates in the sink,
the cups and glasses I must collect that stand forgotten in every room of the house.

I am thankful for the way he sounds like his dad,
the way he laughs,
the way he makes me laugh,
the way he knows my soul and I know his.
He is leaving for his dream, my sweet boy,
and leaving me sweet dreams of all our yesterdays.