Evan is talking my ear off again. In fact, he’s been doing that very thing for the past three hours. He ran to catch up with me while I was walking the dog so that he could tell me all about the things that are important to a ten-year-old on a summer evening.
Believe me, there are a lot of them.
He just had to tell me about a special quest that he’s making in one of his video games, and it clearly wasn’t going to wait until I got home. Now I know, in exact detail, how many more fish he will need to catch and how much more wood he will need to chop and sell in order to purchase the equipment needed to make his video game trek possible.
He also had to tell me about some funny videos he’s seen on YouTube, promising to show them to me later when we get home. Of course, I feel as if I’ve already seen the videos because he’s described every single aspect of them to me.
His talking continues, covering every topic imaginable, from the time we adopted our dog Bailey, to the mean things some kids at school did to him last year, to remembering that cool rainbow he’d seen the last time it rained, to how much fun he had while swimming with his cousins last week and how worried he is about getting water in his ears again. Are you sure you’ll make those drops again, Mom, so that we can get the water out? I assure him that I will.
There is no off-switch on Evan.
His older brother Ryan isn’t much different. Ryan likes to come downstairs and talk to me long after everyone else is in bed and I’m trying to sneak in some reading or writing at the end of a busy day. Our conversations continue far into the next morning, even as I struggle with knowing that I should have been in bed hours ago.
Although I often attempt to carry on with whatever I’m doing while Evan mindlessly chats, I usually close up the computer or the book I’m reading and give Ryan my full attention. At age 20, I know that these moments spent talking to my oldest son have a limited shelf-life. Someday soon he’ll leave to start a life of his own, full of the very same duties and distractions currently competing for my time and attention. These times of leisurely conversation will become nothing more than poignant memories, kept alive inside a mother's heart along with first words and lost baby teeth.
Not all of my children are so eager to share the particulars of their lives with me. My son Matt has been quiet and reserved his entire life. Like me, he finds comfort in silence and welcomes the opportunity it provides to spend time with his thoughts, his dreams, and working out his problems.
As he makes his way through the often rocky teenage years, I ache for him to share these burdens with me instead of keeping them locked so tightly within. Expression, in a verbal form, doesn’t come easily to Matt. He rarely talks about these kinds of matters with me.
A few days ago, Matt found himself having to navigate a new hurdle: his first-ever heartbreak. His girlfriend of nine months, an eternity when you're fourteen, decided that she would like Matt much better as a friend.
Although I am decades older than this middle child of mine, I know that crushing pain of being rejected by someone whom you think you love. What's worse is that this pain coincides with the very same time that you’re trying to discover your identity and purpose in life. Unlike those of us who’ve had years to figure out that life will go on in spite of a bad break up, teenagers do not possess the confidence in themselves nor the experience needed to realize that they truly will, eventually, recover.
I wish Matt would share his sadness with me, but he prefers instead to deal with it as he deals with all things: alone.
As his mom, I do the only things I can think to do: I give him a journal so that he has some place to put the feelings, I offer reassurance that the pain will end, and I remind him that I will be right here if he wants to talk.
After a thirty-or-so minute retreat to his room, Evan is now back downstairs, chatting to me about something comical he’s seen on TV. Breathless and animated, he describes each scene, unable to suppress the giggles which ultimately burst from him like a celebratory champagne cork.
In mid-sentence, he stops talking. His eyes fall to the computer on my lap and the string of typed words on the screen.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I know that I’m probably driving you crazy by talking so much tonight. I’m going to go upstairs.”
Suddenly, I see my youngest son as a teenager, sullen and private and uninterested in talking to his mom. The image quickly morphs into that of a young man, gathering up the remnants of what used to be his childhood room as he prepares for life at an address different from mine.
I close up the laptop and pat the empty spot on the sofa next to me.
“Nah, I’m not doing anything special. Why don’t you come over here and sit down?”
Comments
I have two grown sons...my guess is the talk is the key. what you have with your sons via talk I think is the equivalent of what women do with their mothers that bond them. I have no idea what that is, but I know it's there because I see it in my daughters in law and even in me and my feelings towards my mother.
I have found with boys/men it IS very different, that relationship. I have two sons, one quiet, one talkative. the quiet son barely communicates with anyone...he's not very talkative. that's just his way. he's a good father though. just not very communicative.
the more gregarious son and I are friends, good friends and have always been close because of his willingness, desire to talk, share. he allowed me, encouraged me and when his children were born, made sure I became as close or closer to them than I was to him.
Deborah - I hear you. When you think about it, we really only have them with us for a short time.
Monkey - Thank you! I appreciate you reading and leaving such a beautiful message. I hope that my sons will grow up as well-adjusted as yours evidently have. XOXO
Rated.
Thanks for the great post!
It's so hard to find those quiet moments and even harder to sacrafice them all over again :) and yet, it's done over and over, not for money or fame or clear conscience, but just because. Selflessness is one of the traits I admire most in Moms :)
I can't wait to get to know your boys and I can't wait to give them all AXE gift baskets for Christmas. With cookies, of course.
Yes. I had to go there. All of this sweet sentiment was giving me a rash. ;)
xoxoxo
LandP - Thank you, my friend. Sometimes I can't wait for that empty nest but then I remind myself how much I will miss the chatter.
Katy -Thank you! Some days, text messaging is a lifeline with my middle son.
ame i - I completely understand. I know that I'm going to miss it even though sometimes I'd give my left kidney for some quiet. :)
1IMom - I can't wait for you to meet them either, but really, you can keep the Axe gifts. Unless, of course, you want me to reciprocate with your boys.
Sheba - At least the love will always span the miles, right? Thank you for stopping by my little corner of OS.
I love the way your write about your sons -- the way you relate to them is really wonderful.
femme forte - Thank you! :)
j lynne - I share the same struggles, trying to find that balance between space of my own and being there for my children. Thanks for stopping by. I truly appreciate how supportive you are of me. XOXO
You did, of course, the right thing. Good for you for having that corrective vision and putting the laptop down.
My mother is now elderly and we're helping her adjust to living in a senior community on her own but she's still the same Mom who would, and will, sit and talk with me about anything for hours. Or just sit next to me and not talk.
I've always cherished her but you made me realize again how special a mother's love can be.
;)
Awwww, poor Matt.
Rated.
A timely reminder, much needed, about what comes first. Sometimes we forget.
Ann - What a touching comment! I will happily share a life with you any time. XOXO
FLW - I hope it was a good ache. :)
Pilgrim - Nice to see you! Thanks for the praise, but I don't always get things right when it comes to parenting. I'm glad I put the laptop down, too.
Cathy - I love what you wrote. It makes me think of our kids as a type of mirror, reflecting their experiences back to us.
dawdler - I think you are absolutely right. :)
Fetlock - Aw, yes - the language of hugs never fails. Thanks for stopping by. P. S. I will forever associate your name with that badass lasagna recipe you created. :)
Kyle - I'm embarrassed to admit that so many times in the past, I've tuned my kids out. For some reason, it hit me how quickly the time passes and how I really need to be present NOW in their lives. Thanks so much for the kind words.
Catherine - I hope so. It's hard to know what he's thinking and feeling so I have to rely on my own experience. I hope he at least knows he's loved.
Rob - It's an honor to see you here. Thanks so much for reading.
moreorlessme - I feel the same way, always fighting to find that balance between energizing myself with some alone time and being there for the kids who will be grown and gone all too quickly.
MAWB - Aw! Warm fuzzies are good!
sweetfeet - I am far, FAR from perfect, believe me, but thanks for the kind words. :)
Jonathan - You sound as if you're describing my son Matt.
Lucy - Wow, thank you! XOXO
Wooly - I completely understand. I feel as if I wasted a lot of time with the two oldest ones and now want to savor the time with the youngest one because I see how fast they grow.
Raleigh Jim - I can't tell you how much your comment means to me. You are proof that spending the time with our children DOES make a difference. Your mom is lucky to have such a loving son. Thank you so much for sharing her here.
sophieh - It sounds like your nieces and nephews could be related to Evan!
Bonnie - Thank you!
Leeandra - Yep, she's history. Hopefully one of these days, Matt will see it as a good thing.
o'Stephanie - What a delight to see you here! Thank you for stopping by. XOXO
Frank - Oh yeah. Everything that people say about the teen years are absolutely true. Hopefully we all come out on the other side of them with our sanity intact.
Terry - I LOVE your comment so much that I am putting it on my computer as a reminder. Thank you!
Gabby - Thanks for always making me feel loved. :)
Eva - Actually, my sons are the reason I started to write these stories. I wanted to capture these moments for our family. I hope I'm doing a good job of it.
Pranay - I agree!
Bellwether - Thank you. I intend to be fully present more often with my kids.
Monsieur - You make me blush! Thank you. XOXO
Owl - Very good advice indeed. Thanks!
Vanessa - It's so hard to not get consumed with the duties and stresses of daily life, isn't it? Thank you very much for stopping by.
bethybug - Oh yes! They ARE sweet little interruptions, aren't they?
Lainey - I didn't know that our kids were so similar in age either. I appreciate your compliments, but really, I pretty much make it all up as I go along. Once in a while, I luck out and do the right thing. :)
Kathy - I'm still working on figuring out the mom-thing, but thanks for the compliment just the same. :)
Linnn - Parallel lives indeed! I do hope you don't have to deal with the Axe though.
bluesurly - You're very welcome. It's as much a reminder for me as it is for anyone else. XOXO
mamoore - Thanks! The kid totally blows me away when it comes to poetry.
Roy - You give me more credit than I deserve, but thanks. It's always a joy to see you here.
Gabby - I think Steve is the very embodiment of optimism. Aren't we lucky to have him around to point out all of the goodness for us?
♥'s for you.
Progressive Liberal - Thank you. :)