son – Don't Gel Too Soon

When Kids Grow Up: Their Landmark Birthdays and Mom’s Heart

My baby turned 30 on Saturday. He’s a remarkable man and has been independent and away from home (across the country, actually) for a long time. But he’s still my only youngest child.

It was a landmark for him, and he had a great day, I think, while I spent much of that day in a state of astonishing gratitude.

That face would be enough, right? The amazing thing is that for every smile, grin, laugh, great story, amazing artwork, funny home-made Halloween costume (How many second-graders dress up as Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks, after all?) there are a hundred more. He’s a wealth of wonders.

I have so many friends who are close to his age, or younger, and I’ve often tried to describe what it feels like to see a beloved boy grow into a fine, honorable, creative, funny, loving and talented man. But they’re worrying about preschool and OT and nannies and play dates and work-life balance and it sounds so far away – probably frighteningly so.

So, as I have so often before, I’m telling you instead.
There are few honors more moving than noting a day like this with joy. Look at this photo – a moment of pure eloquence as a young man toasts his big brother at his wedding. You can see how much they like each other; that’s a gift too.

I could tell many stories about the little boy up there and the man, too, but they are his stories to tell. I’m here, rather, to tell you, and myself, one more time, about my own sense of the pure honor of being a parent and riding along as our kids find their way. Through good times and bad, success and … not so much …. their presence is a blessing.

So. Here I am, in adequately trying to tell people — who already know the wonders of parenthood — about someone they’ve never met. Because, as he enters his 31st year, I’m just so glad I know him.

Happy birthday Dan.

Sons Really Do Get Married, and Their Parents Really Do Love It, (and Nobody Cried)

There we are, our sweet sweet family with it's newly married eldest and his lovely brand-new wife. It's an out-of-body experience to watch your son get married, and this was a wonderful one. I'd been very nervous: would it go well after the two of them had worked so hard on every detail, would they have fun, would we cry, would I look ok (well, after all, those photos last forever.)

It all did go well. The groom (in the middle) was so joyous and ready, his speech so sure and calm; his wife so lovely and pleased, his brother (on the right)offering the loveliest, funniest, just-rightest toast ever. There were only 80 of us so over the weekend we became a kind of tribe, tables shifting as people moved around enjoying the event, and one another.

It was a great joy to me to see how much the boys feel for each other. I have, today, two of my dearest wishes: that my children be good friends and that each son find a partner who is wonderful, honorable and loving. So far so good.

I'd been thinking for months about the power of time, of change. One of my friends commented on my Facebook page that "I remember when Josh was xeroxing his little hands in the office!" I do too. And I thought I'd be consumed by those kinds of thoughts. But this just felt right, timely and good for everyone. No nostalgia, not "where are you going my little one, little one" "sunrise, sunset" thoughts at all. Just gratitude at the happiness and love that surrounded the bride, the groom and the rest of us. May it always be so.

MARRIAGE, TRADITION AND MY MOTHER’S WEDDING RING

This is the hand of my soon-to-be daughter-in-law. The ring on her finger is 65 years old. At least. I know this because it was my mother’s wedding ring, which she wore until she died, and which I have worn ever since. And now, another generation of our family will wear it as a wedding ring. It’s a joy for me and symbolic of so much: continuity, Amy’s acceptance of us as part of her life, her respect for Josh’s origins, and, as she readily acknowledges, a love of tradition and history.

When your child decides to get married; it’s a big deal. New configurations must be established as two families converge: new sensibilities, new rituals and traditions. More important than all of that though is the wish, the hope, the prayer, that these two people, one of whom you have loved with your whole heart since he entered the world and one you have learned to love — that they will find happiness, the strength to weather inevitable storms, a continuation of the laughter and friendship they so clearly share, of the closeness each feels with siblings and parents, and as much joy as can be apportioned to them.

Seeing this ring, part of my own family since before I was, moving forward in this way, means all those things, stands for everything eternal that we seek and sometimes find. It’s a gift beyond measure to me and to the family we’ve been and the one we, and they, are still becoming.