When Taylor was little, he had a hard time going to sleep. For quite some time I would rub his back and sing "I love you, Lord" to get him to sleep at night. Three years ago, on our last Sunday at church, before he was leaving for college, we sang that song. My eyes welled up as I remembered all those nights. I took Taylor's hand. He leaned over to me and said, "I remember". That's when the ugly cry started. That moment is as vivid as if it happened yesterday.
Today, Mama-ache was unbearable. His schedule hasn't permitted him to come home lately so I decided to go see him. I wrapped his valentines gift and started out. He and I arrived at his apartment at the same time. I had to look twice at him. "You cut your hair?", I said. "Yes, it was really long and with baseball starting…", he replied. And for a moment he wasn't 21, he was the buzz-cut little boy that left me valentines cut out of construction paper.
At times I've noticed that when you share that you miss your child who's away at college people think that you haven't let go or that you don't embrace where they are in their lives right now. I disagree. I am so pleased with the man he is becoming but there are times when Mama-ache, for whatever reason, takes hold and brings us back to what was and for a little while I mourn that passing. I don't find anything wrong with that. A couple hours later, Mama-ache subsided, I was back on the road. The sun was shining brightly and I thanked God for Taylor and for a wonderful visit.
Joyfully,
