I read another great post today from one of my all-time favorite blogs called
Mammalingo, entitled, "A Letter To My Sons, Take Two". Mammalingo is a trip and a half. I love her. We don't agree on everything which is cool because I can always catch a glimpse of someone else's take on things whilst enjoying the dollop of humor she inevitably plops on top. Make that a BIG dollop.
Today she shared some sage advice in a letter to her sons as they grow into strapping young men. I encourage you to read it. Good stuff. But it was her
last bit that made me, at first, chuckle to myself and then gulp down the muddy lump that suddenly developed in my throat and made it hard to breathe for just a moment. Her advice? "oh yeah. Call your mother."
The reality of our sons growing up and moving on and totally forgetting (certainly not refusing?) to call their moms is just all too... REAL. It's as if these kids of ours think a stork really did deliver them and then, as soon as they get a taste of independence, (or fall in love with another woman besides
you)<;they just don't seem to want their mom around...
hovering
 |
| so what's the problem? |
When my son moved away from home at the age of eighteen to attend a school of ministry, it wasn't so far away that his dad and I couldn't visit every now and again. And we did. And it was great. And when we would leave I'd always remind him to call his mom. "Don't forget to call your mom!". blah blah blah. yeah yeah yeah. He took it all in stride and I did get a couple calls out of that effort. Then I decided to leave a more creative reminder for him. haha. Funny mom. It was a non-toxic, car-safe, window paint reminder, correctly and very neatly spelled backwards on his car's rear window. How cute is that? Look in the rearview mirror. hahaha. No? For some reason, my son did NOT think this was funny. At all. Not even a little bit. I didn't find this out until later, when the calls stopped all together, but I had think embarrassed him in front of his fellow students. What? But yeah, I did, and yes, I did feel badly. Really badly. But fer cryin' out loud, how does a mother know when what used to be funny just isn't funny anymore? And then, no calls at all? Bah! Maybe he just "forgot". Probably. Maybe. Ya know, you raise your kids to be strong and wise and independent and what happens when they go ahead and do all that? They drop you like yesterday's news. This is tough stuff. And that is probably a really appropriate metaphor. But seriously, isn't that what they are supposed to do? And if we don't feel some kind of gutting then maybe we're doing it wrong. And we're moms. We
really don't want to do it wrong. (even though we often do)
I hope Mammalingo's sons call her, though. I really do. At least with the good important stuff. Like what they had for lunch that day. I hope they do.
oh and p.s. My son is in his 30s and still not so good at calling. So I moved in with him. Problem solved.
