Today is my son's 40th birthday, which is not only a big birthday for him, but, as it turns out, for me as well. Of course I have been thinking about him as we approach his big day, but I've also been thinking about what that meant for my own life. Because becoming a mother turned my world on its side in ways I couldn't have begun to imagine, and now that same child hitting middle age is once again making me see myself differently.
At 24, I was barely more than a kid myself when he was born, and his arrival heralded a whole new age for me. Even when I was pregnant with him, I didn't realize how entirely my universe would shift the moment I held him in my arms the first time.
But when I saw his perfect little face, his ten fingers and ten toes, his curly dark hair and his whole precious self and realized that this helpless person was entirely dependent on me, it transformed me in an instant. I went from being the center of my universe to being the protector, provider and Person In Charge. He needed me for everything - even holding up his own head. He gave my life purpose and meaning, just by existing. And even today, although he probably doesn't realize it, he continues to give my life purpose and meaning. I am still his mother, different but the same. I still want to be there when he needs me, still want to search out answers when he is seeking help, still want to support and uplift and grow with him as he grows. I am realizing that my own mother has continued to do the same with me, and it is a life long process of love that continually circles from mother to child to mother to child, eternally changing yet eternally the same.
He always had a serious personality, and it started at birth. He was not a big smiler, even as a baby. But when he did smile at me, it made my whole day. He was inquisitive and intelligent, and asked a million questions, half of which I couldn't answer, even on a good day. But we would go looking, and I learned right along with him. And when we would figure out the answer, he would beam at me, like I hung the moon. Sometimes I miss those simpler days, when the questions were easier and the answers more obvious.
He is still inquisitive and intelligent, but he doesn't ask me the questions too often any more, because he has more answers than I do! He is smarter, cuter, and more interesting than me. He is living his life on his terms, exactly as I hoped and prayed he would when I held him in my arms. And I still live for the smiles he gives when he sees me, and the fun that we have arguing this opinion or that, or sharing an adventure or two together.
For 40 years he has put up with his less than perfect mother, and together we grew up into the mother and son we are today. I have always been proud to be Adam's mom, and I always will be. Happy Birthday, Sonshine. Wishing you many more happy birthdays to come!
