Last week, my little girl called me for Valentine’s Day advice on letting a boy down easy and keeping his friendship. This after mean kids started a rumor the week before having her together with a boy she didn’t care for. She wanted nothing to do with all the boyfriend/ girlfriend drama at that point. It sounded like she did well with it, since he was still her friend when she got sick a day later and ended up spending the remainder of the week in bed.
After the struggles of the farm in the last months, and everyone having been sick in the last couple weeks, I drove the morning carpool into the school lot this morning. The other little girl from the carpool said have a good day and took off across the field. I let Bailey out her door and gave her a hug, bidding her good luck. Last night was the first night she had been out of bed for more than a couple hours, and just the morning chores had her coughing, but now that she was no longer contagious, it was just too hard to miss any more school, especially during the run up to fair in an accelerated program.
As I turned back to the car, I saw Wyatt Clay taking off to the path across the back of the parking lot to the elementary school. His school bag slung across the front and lunch box across the back, he hadn’t even so much as called a goodbye. I called out to my baby, who walked back to meet me half the distance, and informed me he was walking to his school, and that Bailey lets him walk that way when he wants to on days she has him before school. I asked if he planned to say goodbye, and two strong little arms shot out around my waist. A quick kiss, a “Love you Mama,” and he waved and turned.
I got behind the steering wheel and watched him while I waited for a chance to back out. Funny, he walks faster when he is on his own. I felt the tears behind my eyes and noticed he had left a Taylor Swift CD in, with a song about never growing up and the Mom you are leaving growing old. (So not fair!) I pulled around the circle and headed for the elementary school to watch him. He caught me. I pulled into a parking spot facing the field at the elementary, and he walked up, waving goodbye for the fourth or fifth time. I was dismissed with a smile and an assurance that I could go, he could walk in by himself just fine, and he saw a tear.
“What, Mama?”
“Nothing, just checking. It’s my job, you know.”
“I’m fine. You can go now.” Another wave.
Ouch.
I know I am still loved. I still get hugs and kisses, whether others are around or not. And when the world comes crashing in, it is me. But Charlie is fun and cool- I know partly because they see so little of him, with his schedule and theirs, and all the travel. Part of being the one who is always there is the holding on and letting go dance. Feeling the weight of the world and the need to keep the world at bay while I cheerlead them into it. And feeling like the one growing old and wanting them to stay little with me when I know they cannot. I will get there- someday. Just don’t make it too soon, okay? And how about another hug and another wave while we are at it? I have a feeling they like knowing they can still find me in the parking lot and at the other end of the cell phone call. I know I like finding my own Mama at the other end of the phone.
Here’s to Mamas everywhere.
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