On a sweltering summer afternoon, I find myself in a cramped middle school cafeteria when my son, Alex, clambers into my lap. He wraps his long arms around my neck, leaning in to whisper, “Love you more, Mom.” His grin is infectious, and all my frustrations dissipate.
He wiggles restlessly, pretending to be interested in the music on stage. I lean in and softly say, “shhh.” Alex takes my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine, and rests his head against my chest. The familiar scent of his shampoo mingles with the sweet smell of a boy who has just been running around. I close my eyes, savoring this moment because I know it is fleeting.
Before Alex, there were others who occupied this lap, their youthful scents filling the air as I embraced them. I recall the time when my oldest, Noah, first nestled here. Now, he towers over me, a constant reminder of how quickly the years pass. It feels like just yesterday that I was holding him close, yet here we are, navigating the bittersweet journey of growing up.
Alex is on the brink of adolescence, discovering who he is, developing his interests, and finding his place in the world. He is becoming his own person, and I hope I have equipped him with the skills he needs to face life’s challenges. I wish for him to trust himself, embrace his uniqueness, and remember that I will always be a soft place to land.
The time we share is never quite enough. Days may feel long, but the years race by. One moment he’s a small boy in my lap, and the next he’s up on stage, embodying his passions. As I watch him shine, I can’t help but feel a swell of pride mixed with a touch of sadness, wishing that time would slow down.
When he takes the stage, I’ll be left in the audience, without anyone to keep an eye on or whisper to. I’ll be fighting back tears, cherishing the moment while longing for the days when he fit perfectly in my arms. I know that the distance between now and the future is much shorter than it appears. Our children are not truly ours; they are individual souls entrusted to us for a brief time. I often remind myself that I am not here to collect children but to nurture them and then set them free.
What no one tells new parents is that with each day, our children grow increasingly independent. They need us less and less, and while this is the essence of motherhood, it comes with a bittersweet price. Every step they take away from us is a reminder of how we must also let go.
As I sat there with Alex, I etched that moment into my memory, savoring every second. We must cherish these fleeting times because before we know it, they will be grown and out in the world. This little boy isn’t mine forever, but I will hold on to him for as long as I can.
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In summary, the moments we share with our children are precious and fleeting. As they grow more independent, we must remember to cherish each memory, knowing that our time with them is limited but filled with love.