Once, he was very little.
He played in the sun,
and oh, how he grew.
he climbed in trees.
he was a contemplative fisherman,
an avid explorer,
and always, always,
a very silly boy.
Sometimes we butted heads,
I always loved him bigger than life.
(I still do.)
He's a bigger than life boy.
Still all those things,
one hand reaching for adulthood,
the other grasped firmly on childhood,
both feet headed out our door,
to sleep in his father's house,
be taught by a woman I barely know,
grow into the amazing man he is destined to be.
I already miss our late night talks,
early morning hugs,
fights over homework,
goofy Nerf gun wars through the house.
My beautiful boy,
who changed everything I thought I knew
about parenting and children,
and taught me to be a better mother,
a more compassionate teacher,
my Daegan,
my Dos,
my Aspie,
my son.
Whoa, we must converse!
ReplyDeleteOh, I'm sorry I missed this when you first posted it. It brings tears to my eyes; it's so powerful, honest, and beautifully written. The stanza that starts with "He's a bigger than life boy . . ." just makes me crumble.
ReplyDeleteKellylou, this is a powerful piece. Your words simply moved me to tears. I'm fighting them back right now. The part where you write, "to be taught by a woman I barley know" was almost more than I could take in. They grow so fast and the thought of missing one single moment is hard. Your strength and love for your son is evident. May God bless you and give you a peace that passes all understanding.
ReplyDeleteVal