I didn't see it coming.
Twenty years ago, I gave birth to my 6 lb 11 oz baby boy on New Year's Day via C-section because he was completely upside down and sideways with his tiny feet up beside his even tinier ears. They handed me this little bundle nicknamed 'Little Man' and
I didn't see it coming.
From day 1, this Little Man deeply and permanently wove his way into my life and my heart. The many nights spent playing because he preferred sleeping during the day. The countless hours swinging him on a rope over a giant pit of foam at Mommy & Me tumbling classes or sitting in a chair every Saturday at Tae Kwon Do watching him diligently work and then cheering through tears 7 years later when he turned and grinned at me with the Black Belt wrapped around his waist. I still didn't see it coming.
This charming young man, whose quick wit and sense of humor will either win you over...or piss you off. It seemed to have the adverse effect on his elementary school art teacher, his high school music teacher and the National Honor Society at large.
Wow. Really didn't see that coming.
But I'm enamored with him. This boy who keeps me guessing.
One minute he's making (terrifying) candid videos of our family; the next he's talking complicated Engineering lingo with his dad.
One minute he's juggling flaming torches and blowing fire across the top of his car in the driveway; the next he's preparing and cooking our Thanksgiving turkey.
One minute he's complaining about what I'm making for dinner; the next he's crawling into bed beside me to sleep while I do my bible study.
One minute he's chasing me with my home electrodes threatening to put them on my chest to "see what happens"; the next he's driving to pick me up when I'm running on our back country roads alone because he was worried about me.
One minute he's sitting on the tiny chair surrounded by pictures of Mickey Mouse trying to convince me that a 19 year old shouldn't still be going to the Pediatrician; the next he's rummaging through the sucker basket at the check-out counter complaining that I didn't intervene during " that violent throat swab."
One minute he's instructing me not to say a word while he negotiates the purchase of his new car at the dealership; the next he's tossing me the keys so I can test drive it to the nearest empty parking lot and teach him how to drive a stick shift before he signs the paperwork.
One minute our softball coach is threatening to separate us in the outfield because we won't stop fighting; the next he's threatening to separate us if we don't stop laughing. Nothing bonds us together like seeing a batter get nailed with a pitch.
Oh, snap! We didn't see that coming!
One minute I was driving him home from church youth group; the next he was saying, "There's this girl. Her name is Barbara." One minute he was refusing to order his own food at a restaurant because he doesn't like to talk in front of people; the next he was hijacking the microphone in front of 500 people at the church's chili cook off to ask Barbara to prom and offer her his class ring.
Then I started to see it coming...
Zac moved out last month. While it's the natural course of life that God intended and I'm eternally grateful for the 20 years I had him home with me, it was heartbreaking nonetheless. Not only for me, but for little Caymen who couldn't imagine life without her big brother in the bedroom right beside hers. One minute he's teasing her in the kitchen...the next, they're crying together as he cradles her on the top bunk in her room and then took a black sharpie and drew a promise to each other above the door. She didn't see it coming.
On February 14th, 2014 my son married his first and only love, Barbara, in a private ceremony. Much like every other couple, they have a special and beautiful story that is theirs and theirs alone to share, so I'll end my commentary with this:
Dear Zac and Barbara,
As you venture out on this journey together, always remember that you'll never please everyone, and that's ok. It's not your job. If people tell you you're too young, I'll remind you that you're the age your dad and I were when we married 21 years ago. If people tell you it's hard, I'll completely agree with them before reminding you that nothing of true value comes easy. You're a family now and it's our honor to stand behind you and cheer you on in unconditional love and support. Your love story is just beginning. Stay focused on the Author of it, because He's the only one who knows how it all unfolds. Enjoy every minute of the adventures He has planned for you, and keep your eyes open, because some of the best moments in life, you might never see coming.
I love you forever,