I sat on the third to last row of a darkened campus theater and watched my boy, my oldest boy, that boy who emerged from me more than 18 years ago and made me a mother. I watched him in awe, as he pulled from reserves I did not know he had, to do something I did not know he could do. He did it with abandon and confidence and joy, and I watched him, reluctant tears trickling down my cheeks ("Do not cry, do not cry," I told myself, "18-year-old boys in college do not like it when their mothers cry").
But I did cry, sitting there mercifully cloaked in the dark, and I was overcome with the idea that he's not mine anymore. Not really, not the way he was when he fit in the crook of my arm. Every day he is stepping further down this road to being entirely his own person, doing things I did not teach him, excelling in things I cannot do. It is astounding.
At the end, when the crowd burst into applause, I clapped right along with them, trying to maintain some sort of dignity…for in my mind I was screaming “Bravo, Bravo Brien!) His part of the program last night was brief, but as I watched him interacting with his college peers and looking like groom walking down the theater aisle in his black tuxedo, emotions came barreling up awkwardly causing a lump in my throat.
But in my heart, the words were quieter: Bravo, my son, they whispered. Bravo to you for finding what you love, and for doing it well. Bravo to you for stepping gradually but surely away from your dad and me, making your own way in this world, standing bravely on the edge of what's ahead and jumping in headlong.
Part of me wanted to whisper these thoughts to him, and to remind him that as he runs forward, we'll still be here to catch him when he falls. For he’s still a boy and still unsteady on his feet as he navigates this difficult and often cruel world. However just like he did when he was three and he fell on the playground; someday he will fall, and I’ll race forward to catch him and kiss him and make it all better, but he’ll push me away and tell me No! I’m big now!
But this is not the night for such words. There was no falling tonight. There was no need for a safety net or a back-up plan. It was a night for his star to shine so brightly that it cast light on the path in front of him. He knows just where he's going now.
It's a funny thing, how a kid can grow up light years in just one evening.
Bravo, my boy.
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2 comments:
Oh, yes, he did a marvelous job as I watched him too. I was so proud to be his grandmother, sitting in the audience, smiling and enjoying that which he contributed to in fine style. I did not see your tears, Holley for I was so happy watching him and knowing that Brien was indeed enjoying himself, being part of the bigger package and IN COLLEGE now.
Yes, he is growing older and more experienced but he will never be without the need of having you close in his heart. He loves you so dearly (as we all do).
So, BRAVO from me too. It was a fine night and he did look so mature and elegant as they came down the aisle onto the stage. It was quite a night and I was proud to be there.
Bravo to Holley for letting go of a child and recognizing him as a man.
I'm crying as I write this. You have a way with words that really tugs at my heart, day in and day out.
I hope I am as elegant and classy as you are when my time comes.
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