Rain Filled Thoughts

As I sloshed through puddles, dodging raindrops, and making a beeline for the elementary school door, my right shoe filled up with water.  The sole has separated and it's certainly a sign of things to come. 

I wanted so much to squeeze my newly eleven-year old son when I saw him enter the school office this morning.  I wanted to hold him close remembering this day eleven years ago that was filled with so much anxiety and loneliness.  With the balance of life and death ever present but often forgotten this day reminds me that I was gifted.  As I lay lonely, shaking and bleeding, my son was gasping for air somewhere in the hospital with his dad.  As I look at my adolescent son today, I see that small peanut, with the tiniest tookus, struggling. I hear his breath sounds and it's not good.  My arms feel empty because he is not in them.  Not then.  Not today.  Today, I must respect his independence as a young man. 

Tomorrow my eldest son will become a teenager.  Thirteen years have passed since I spent several hours trying to give him life.  Thirteen years since that squalling baby was placed on my belly and I stared into his red, screaming face and thought, "I'm going to remember this moment forever so what should I be thinking and feeling right now?"  And that is exactly what I remember.  Me laying there trying to decide and make sure that I was thinking and feeling the way that is expected of me.   Am I doing it right?  Will I do it right?   His smile has always been magnetic and it remains.  We definitely have eye rolls moving into the neighborhood but something tells me we're going to make it.

I've been wading through water since this morning.  The rain has increased in intensity and my feet are wet and freezing.  I'm bemoaning that I can't seem to throw away my favorite coats and shoes until it's really past the time.  What my problem is I can't say.  Attachment issues?  Abandonment?  Separation anxiety?  Perhaps so.  I was not born to be lonely and without what I love. 

Sometimes the sacrifices we make to keep people and things together are just that.  Sometimes we wade through puddles and dodge the raindrops of this life and its moments and we feel cold, empty, sad, heart-broken, unfulfilled. 

When I look into two pairs of deep blue eyes.  When I see that magnetic smile and that GQ hair.  When I want to squeeze my kids but refrain.  I know that the labor all those years ago and since has been a sacrificial labor of love.  I'm up for the task.  The years I have left ahead are but few and I will gladly shelve anything else to enjoy these final seasons with son one and son two.