Homecoming (2)
Friday, March 6, 2009
Late tonight my son comes home from college for his spring break week. In my world the sands are already shifting. We'll sit. We'll talk. I will not take my walks alone. We'll head to the city, for how that kid loves all cities, and we'll stay out late, for since he was born he has always loved the late night best. I'll learn from him, because I always do, and because lately he has more and more to teach, and also, within all of this, I'll have to wait my turn, for whenever he's home, my kid loves to work with the employer who always makes room on the schedule.
So he'll come home, and I'll hardly sleep, fitting my client work in around his waking hours. Some of my friends are having their babies for the first time. Many of my high school friends are brand-new mothers. My baby is nineteen and still every note from him, every day with him feels new, feels sweet and exhilarating.
I wonder whose homecoming—whose hour visit, even—you yearn for.
16 comments:
It's lovely that you can learn from your son, too, as well teach him in return - youo've obviously taught him how to love.
I am meeting a couple of good friends tonight for sushi and that makes me happy.
I love hearing all this joyful anticipation and excitement spring out of your heart, Beth. Have a delightful week.
I've renewed contact recently with a highschool classmate whose children are five and two. Kind of boggles my mind thinking about it.
Oh, do I relate to this. My son will be 25 this summer. He's done with college, and lives and works on the other side of the country. The holiday season has become extra-special in the last few years, since it's really the only time I get to see him. Enjoy spring break with your son!
It sounds like you raised one very special young man. If only all mothers had such relationships with their sons.
I yearn for my sister's company (although I don't get much of a chance because we're together so often). The two of us can share anything, understand each others sense of humor, laugh over memories, and discuss most things. My mother says my sister and I share a brain, but really we each know the other so well that it's easy to guess what's going on in the mind.
Oh, yay! I didn't realize it was that time!
The relationship you two have crafted is just amazing to me. Have the BEST week. I know you will...
XO
Anna
Your write so beautifully about your son. I just started reading your book A Slant of Sun. It is interesting to be reading about your life 18 years ago while simultaneously reading your current thoughts here. It was such a different time for you, but your voice is very much the same.
I've only been following your blog a couple of weeks now, but I love your writing and look forward to reading more of your books.
The only homecoming I long for right now it the meeting of myself and my bed tonight after another long week. But I still have quite a few hours of today to get through first.
What a memorable post. Thank you for sharing.
Enjoy!
When my kids are away at college, I hope that I can have such meaningful reunions when they come home. You have truly a special relationship with your son. Enjoy your time together!
Enjoy every moment . . . as I know you both will! That last line--a serious prompt for a good story!
Sometimes reading about your time with your son brings tears to my eyes, because I had these times with my father. He passed away in 2004, and I still miss sitting up until 3am on the nights I came home from college, talking and dreaming about what would be our futures. He had great plans for his older years (and he got most of them done!). I yearn for that, and I take comfort in my mom, who can't stay up past 10pm, but who tries... for me.
I hope that one day your son reads this wonderful, heartwarming and loving tribute to him. It is a tribute to you as well, Beth, because as his mother he is part of you.
I think the thing that I love most about both my beautiful daughters is that we laugh together - raucously. (The most precious and memorable compliment I was ever given was at a popular restaurant in Kampala where we'd go sometimes, en-famile, to have supper together when the girls were home from school. Someone I only vaguely knew came over on her way out and said, "I've never seen a family laugh and love and connect together like yours. It was joyous to see.")
I am more touched by all these comments than I can say.
My boy is home, and he is happy.
His happiness floats through me.
Thank you.
This is exactly how I feel about my son.
I found your site through Hip Writer Mama. Lucky me. Beautiful post. My day has been set right.
Enjoy the spring break! And hopefully it's spring weather over there! :)
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