I know I need to write about this, just to get it off my chest. But the words don't come. I've sat here, day after day, blank screen before me, and yet the words don't come. I think the reality of the situation is finally settling into my heart.
And the burden is heavy.
Who would have thought that my precious little boy, after years and years of, "I love you Mom, you're the best!", of personal sacrifice, sleep deprivation, career sacrifice, and pure joy in watching his twenty one and a half inches develop into the handsome young man that he is, that it would come to this?
I have been replaced. Prepare yourself. It will happen to you too.
He stands before me, supposedly in conversation, but I know better. The cell phone in his pocket gives off an almost unending buzz, and its intermittent glow makes his face light up, almost as much as the mere presence of her message.
The dogs bark.
Words come out of his mouth, but he's not really present. He's carrying on two conversations, the most obvious one with me, his mother of seventeen years and the one he is with, but the other more pervasive conversation, is the one that seems to go on forever, every waking moment of his day, and I'm sure, night.
I rinse and place another dirty dish into the top rack of the dishwasher.
Another buzz, another light, and he reaches into his shirt pocket. I can't even hear her words. But he does. He sends her a text message in response. And I realize that my days are numbered.
He no longer needs me to mend his boo boos, tie his shoes, or calm his fears. He is fearless. And he is becoming the man I have always dreamed he would. So we begin to enter a new phase in our relationship as mother and son.
We shall become friends.
But for the moment, I'm sad. And already missing the too few years that led up to this moment.
Who would have thought it would come to this?
I have been replaced by a text message.