It goes without saying that being a mother is the most incredible ride of a lifetime. I am obnoxiously proud of my son. He has weathered my divorce from his father and has become a man with a golden heart, goals that he wants to achieve and a groundedness about him that warms my heart. I like to think that I helped him find that balance that we all look for in this life. His father is as conservative as I am liberal. Somewhere in the middle, my son learned from both of us and found his center.
I took my son to his first demonstration. He was under two and slept thru it all, however we were there to demonstrate to save the whales. His father stayed behind. I took my son to a gay pride demonstration when he was 8 years old. The guy on stilts scared him, but we were there and he understood why. We went to a Pro-Choice music festival that featured Gloria Steinman, Jackson Brown and Bonnie Rait in 1994. During intermission we saw baskets of condoms everywhere. My son asked me what they were. I said "you dad hasn't talked to you about this?" When he said no, we went back into the theater and I explained the facts of life to my 11 year old. The hardest, most uncomfortable conversation I've ever had with him, but we got through it. We marched in a Pro-Choice rally when he was 12. We were downtown for the swearing in of Bush II. It was a miserable, cold, rainy day and he asked me why we were there, because he knew I didn't vote for the guy. I explained that our American democratic system works, and even though the voters made a bad choice (in my humble opinion), the process works, and in four years we can vote him out. Didn't work out that way, but I still believe in our process and so does my son.
When he was 16 years old, I got a phone call about a "friend who was in trouble". We discussed their options for over an hour. I knew the "friend" was him, although I never let on that I knew. Turned out to only be a scare, but a scare nonetheless. His father raised him in the Catholic faith, for which I am grateful because I firmly believe all kids need a moral compass, no matter the faith. We were having dinner one night, and my son announces he wants to be a priest when he grows up. He was 11. I am open-minded to a fault, however this one threw me for a loop. We discussed why he wanted to become a priest, and I have never been prouder to hear his reasons: he wanted to help people. Ok, that's fair and I let it drop for a few weeks.
About a month later, again at the dinner table, I asked him about the whole priest thing. He replied, I'm not going to be a priest anymore. Why I asked? Because priests aren't allowed to have dogs he replied. We have always had four legs and fur underfoot and I asked him why couldn't priests have dogs? He replied, the parish supports the priest and he didn't think it was right to ask the parish to buy dogfood therefore he was no longer going to be a priest. I sent a prayer up in thanks and gave my dogs big hugs. He came to this conclusion on his own and I am grateful that he made a choice that was the best for him, and my Jewish family.
When I became a VISTA volunteer, my son came out to visit numerous times. This was where the rubber hit the road. Living with his father, my son had access to the best private school education, a car, a nice house and everything a kid could want or need. I could not offer him any of that, especially as a VISTA volunteer living under the poverty level.
During his visits, my son saw poverty and different cultures through clear eyes. He met a Navajo girl, who at 24 had lost her children because her husband killed them and then tried to kill her. She had come home to find her children dead and her husband waiting for her. She escaped out a window. He is in prison for a very long time. That is a harsh thing to hear when you are a teenager. He worked with me at the Edge of the Cedars Museum, helping keep the grounds in shape. He met Morman girls who fell in love with him on sight (he is very handsome, if I do say so) and I talked to him about the Morman culture and told him if he wanted to be married by 18 and have 4 kids by 23, he could take an interest in some seeing some of these girls. That worked like a charm, because I have instilled in him the idea that he doesn't get married and have kids until he's 27 years old. Where 27 came from I couldn't tell you, but he obviously listened to me and we have not converted to Mormanism.
While in Utah, my son and I visited Hovenweep, an Anazasi "fortress", the Four Corners monument, Monument Valley and the dirt mall as well as swimming holes in Bluff. During my first year, I hosted all the VISTAs for Thanksgiving and my son was there for the holiday. I've never been known for my ability to cook, but we all contributed to the dinner and fixings except we forgot one thing. The rolls in the oven. They had turned to charcoal and could be used as rocks to hurl a great distance. Those rolls still come up in conversation with a chuckle.
My son and I have gone camping, horseback riding and kayaking. He has always been my "little man" taking care of Momma, except now he is 6'2 and still looks out for me. During our camping trips he'd get the tent up and the fire started. He made sure we had everything we needed. I bought a small grill one summer and my son was going to make burgers. Except that we couldn't get the grill hot enough and those burgers kept falling through the cracks. He gets his cooking skills from his Momma.
There have been very tough times for my boy, but we have gotten through them. When necessary, Momma Bear comes out and no one gets the upper hand when Momma Bear is in the vicinity or 2500 miles away. My son has grown up seeing great material wealth and extreme poverty. He has experienced the evil in some people and the goodness in most. He has a good moral compass and empathy for those with less than he has.
Now my boy is a grown man. He is earning is Masters Degree from George Mason University after graduating from Radford, where he was the President of his fraternity. When he told me he was joining a fraternity in his sophmore year, I about had a fit. I didn't raise you to be a frat boy! I told him. I visited him on campus and he gave me a tour of the frat house. There was not one surface, including the floor that I wanted to touch. It was disgusting, even for me. He didn't live there, and his apartment was clean, which made Momma happy. In the end, he partied like a rock star, and built that fraternity up by raising money and membership. I couldn't be prouder of him. My kid may have been a frat boy, but he was focused, not necessarily on partying but on buiding a better organization for the group. Go figure.
Now the tables are turning in our lives, sort of. My son was here and helped Jeff pick out my engagement ring. My son will walk me down the aisle when we get married. He insists he's going to wear a suit, while I keep telling him "its Montana, jeans and a nice shirt are fine". No he tells me, I'm wearing a suit because you're my Momma and I am going to look good escorting you to Jeff. Be still my heart.
Life is full of joy and sorrow. Both have come our way, but the relationship I have with my boy will always and forever remain one of great joy and obnoxious pride. Next up, grandbabies, to which I intend to be Nanna. Sadly, he won't be 27 years old for another two years.
No comments:
Post a Comment