This past week my oldest son turned 15 years old. I still look at him and have trouble believing that the man standing before me is the little boy that stole my heart the minute he came into this world with his beautiful long hands and giant, intelligent eyes. I think that one of the first things I ever said about him was that he was going to play piano; turns out I wasn’t too far off, he plays the guitar.
I know that 15 is not an easy age, I remember it being a time for me where I had a whole lot of questions and answers were pretty limited. Grownups weren’t always so good at answering the questions, and now I can understand, the questions are hard and the answers are not always clear to us even after we’ve put some time and research into the role of living our lives. So he doesn’t always make the best decisions, and he doesn’t always have the greatest attitude, but that being said I am still blown away by how incredible he is.
He is talented; this boy was born to be on a stage, and even when he’s off the stage he still taking centre stage. He makes me laugh, even when I know it’s inappropriate and I should not laugh, because his delivery is impeccable. And he is kind; I can’t imagine him ever being unkind to any person. Lastly he is a determined negotiator who can negotiate consensus among his peers because he is liked and respected (except when it comes to his brothers – unfortunately that particular dynamic brings out the dictator in him). Last semester he nearly drove his religion teacher to tears, but the teacher told me that Daniel’s opinions and questions had brought about the most valuable discussions in his class.
So as a mother and son we’re going through a little bit of a rough patch. He wants me to let go and I’m not quite ready. One day when he’s a father he may understand, but I’m not sure that he’ll ever understand the depth of love that I feel for him as my first born son. I know I need to let him go a little, so I’m going to give it my best effort. He has to go off and figure some things out on his own, and when he needs my guidance he knows I’m always here.
Earlier this week when my best friend and I were catching up over email (because that’s what you do today when you’re a working mother with three sons), she gave me the best insight ever when she wrote “We all have trouble finding happiness and 'our path' (to borrow a phrase my best friend likes to use). This is a particularly hard part of the journey for him. He seems to want to keep at it though - so it is good news”. Thank you my sweet, beautiful friend. You would be surprised how often you help me to find my own path, I am eternally grateful.
So, I love him enough to let go as much as I can and let him go off and find his own path, and if I have to let him stumble from time to time, or I have to consent to let him do something I'm not crazy about, it's part of his path. I can't wait to see how it all works out, he's already amamzing and I'm confident he'll only get better.