Getting There

When my beautiful son was a baby he had a jumpsuit upon which was printed, “Dad’s looks, Mum’s brains”.  I remember thinking that even if the slogan was printed with the opposite sentiment, my poor kid didn’t stand a chance with me as his mum.

Recently I spent a lovely day out with my beautiful son, his best friend and his best friend’s mother.

We’ve known each other since the boys were in second grade; roughly 10 years. Over that time I’ve come to regard my son’s friend (let’s call him “Jo”) almost as a second son.  I often find myself apologising for inadvertently calling him “Darling” and frequently think of the two of them as “my boys”.

During our day out, Jo’s mother and I were discussing the beauty of the boys’ friendship and how fortunate they are to have such a strong, and so far, lasting, bond.  

At the time we were walking behind them, as best we could through the bustling crowds. We assumed they knew the way to our destination, and we were quite comfortable to let them lead us there.

Whereas in the past I would prepare for occasions that involved navigating unfamiliar territory, it had not occurred to me to drag out the old Melways before this trip. I must have unconsciously handed over the role of tour guide to my beautiful son some time ago.

I wondered when the change of guard had taken place.  It surely was only last week that I had led my beautiful young son in unfamiliar areas, often not knowing the way myself, but displaying a brave face in order to ensure my boy felt secure. Now he was leading me, not needing my assistance, or assurance.  But, in my new position I felt a certain relief that the responsibility on this occasion was not mine.  I was also proud that my boy was now able – and very willing - to take on the role of guide.

I don’t imagine that in the moment he or Jo were aware that their mothers were depending upon them.  I suspect, by the intensity of their conversation that they’d even momentarily forgotten we existed.  That is, until they noticed that I had not joined them in jaywalking across a road!

Last year my beautiful son turned 18.  It’s a milestone birthday and of course the day was spent celebrating him.

But my lovely work colleague opened my eyes to something on that day.  I walked into my office to find she had covered my desk in balloons, an assortment of small cakes and various bottles of iced coffee. (My only vice.😉)

She determinedly informed me that my son’s 18th birthday was very much to also be a celebration of me “getting him there”.  She knows a little of my story as a single mum, but she was celebrating all parents in that statement. 

She was right. With God’s help, and with the village of people He surrounded us with, including his best friend, my beautiful son got there.

Despite his mum’s very ordinary looks and brains.

Nikki