Birthday boy no more....

Twenty-five years ago today, I first held my child in my hands. It is a magical moment, when you see that child you have been harboring under your heart for nine long months, and you are suddenly A Mom. The mixed emotions of wishing to keep them close to you, and yet dying to see them, hold them, and ultimately throw them to their own fates to see what they will be overwhelm you. You are humbled and grateful and weary at the impending responsibilities that have suddenly been thrust upon you.

And yet, you know that you will be the best parent who ever lived. You will never say or do the wrong thing. Your child will be perfection itself - behavior, attitude and actions all conforming with your ideals, because you will Do It Right, and thus, your child will do no wrong, and both of your lives will be perfect.

What a difference 25 years makes.

Yesterday, I held that same child in my arms, hugging him goodbye. Now 6'6" and living on his own in a city eight hours away, we said our farewells in a airline terminal, and I watched him walk away into his future.

After a few tumultuous days, he is beginning his new life as a graduate student in a state very different from the one he is used to. The people will be different, the city is new and offers a lot to explore, his studies will be harder and yet, hopefully, even more fulfilling, and his life is changing in every way.

Along the path to this day, I have made every single mistake that parents have made since Cain and Abel. I have criticized when I should have hugged, I have coddled when I should have used tough love. I have been too strict at some times, and too lax at others. I have said no when I should have said yes, and vice versa.

My child, while under my care, managed to take a lamp apart while it was still plugged in. He swallowed a penny and had to have it surgically removed. He stopped breathing on a nightly basis and had to be monitored for the first year of his life, leaving me forever traumatized upon hearing a certain type of alarm. He snores. He is moody and temperamental, and even those who love him best concede that he can be a little difficult at times.

He loves Beethoven and the Beatles, forgets everything immediately except useless trivia that no one needs to know, for which he is guaranteed to have instant recall forever. He has unruly curly hair that he can't control, and wears polo shirts all the time because that way he doesn't have to worry about whether or not he looks nice. He refused to wear new clothes when he was little, and he is gifted and ADHD.

He is, in short, a fairly normal human being, with his good qualities and his bad points, and when added up together equal a pretty great, but hardly perfect person.

I am so grateful to have a son in my life. He has brought kites and baseball and fights with his friends on the front yard into my life. He has given me moments of great pride and moments of total humiliation. He has been the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows, in the biggest swing of the pendulum life has to offer.

At 25, he is who he will be, the framework nearly completed. Although the finishing work will take the rest of his life, you can see the outline of the person he is, and I am gratified. When we started this process, I thought I would be responsible for the outcome. I have learned that he was born his own person. I just provided the guidance system to get there more efficiently.

He makes mistakes, sometimes huge ones, and still has a lot to learn about life. But he takes his life lessons and moves ahead, and rarely needs to review what he got wrong the first time, because he is all about education, both in class and outside of it.

I don't know what the next 25 years will bring, but I do know this much. The other night, I sat at a table and listened to my son talk about me, and what he perceives to be my good attributes. Hearing his heartfelt appreciation for something that he has always taken for granted was touching to me, because I know there are a lot of people who wouldn't say those same words about their own parents.

No matter how many mistakes I have made, no matter how many things I've gotten wrong in his life, my son forgives me for the wrongs, and only holds on to the rights. We are not perfect, either one of us, and we have made our mistakes on his life's journey. But the child who made me a mother makes me proud and excited to see the future, even as I look back on the past with fond memories of days gone by.

Adam, we grew up together, and I am grateful for your patience and courage in trusting a mom who didn't even know which way to put on a diaper at the start. I think we have done well, you and I. You are no longer a boy - you are a man, and one I am very, very proud of.

Happy birthday, Sonshine, and many, many more are wished for you to come. I hope this day holds only good things for you as you get settled into your new place, and your new life. You know how much you are loved, not only because I say so, but because I have shown you every single day of your life, and I look back with confidence that you will never lose sight of that. I wish you a wonderful year in your new life, and I look forward to the stories to come.