Eek. 21. I am momma to a full blown adult. I feel like I should call in sick or something.
Happy, happy birthday first born beautiful boy of mine. I am so excited that you and I head to NYC next month. Last week you tagged me in a post about a restaurant that sells margaritas there for $100 a piece and you commented, “We are going.”
Man, it’s been such a long way from this snapshot of us on the beach at Martha’s Vineyard, both of us so new to our relationship. You can tell you are the first born because you are wearing matching socks! As far away as you roam from that little self of yours that slept so soundly in my arms, that space is still where I feel you.
I know you are kind of dreading coming home for the summer. Our house is tiny and hot and you have outgrown it and you are anxious for your own life to take over full time. You texted me that you would rather work on a fishing boat in the middle of Alaska than come home for that long. Three things flashed through my mind when you said that: Seattle is closer to Alaska than to Milwaukee so wow you really do live far away. Wait, that isn’t fair because I want to go to Alaska. Oh my God you will get seasick and drown, please don’t go. Mom thoughts are like that … a lot of them pile on at once and they are usually a mixture or curiosity, envy, and fear, so I get how the idea of moving back in with those thoughts is a little daunting.
I do miss you, but am equally excited for your shiny, brand new, adult life to take hold. I am eager to see what this next decade brings you. I am incredibly proud of the person you have become, and somehow when I think twenty-one, I have an image of catch and release fishing … the gift of your childhood so beautiful and fleeting, caught in the slippery grasp of my hands for just a single powerful moment before you are released back into an unknown world. It’s funny. Quinn is still at an age where he tells me he wants to live with me forever. I eat that up because, well, you know, fishing boats and all. Still, watching you live such a brave, vulnerable life is so fantastic and rewarding. Court side seats from here on out, kid. No place I’d rather be.
Kate went to visit you and when she came back she said, “I forgot that boy is just all heart. He is a heart walking around on legs.” I love that you think with your heart. What a wonderful way to enter your twenties. So cheers, baby. May twenty-one feel like the turning point it was designed to be. Take stock. Look at the road that lead you to this point. Now is the time to decide which road to travel. I don’t care if it’s the one less traveled. I care that it’s one that brings you great joy.
See you in two weeks. I will make pie.