Boy Mom
As I was driving down the coast, simultaneously consumed by the reality that I am speedily growing up, I thought about you.
A born mother to a boy, yet a mother by choice to me. I was not on my own mind, but the relationship we shared and everything you meant to me. I was thinking about you because it has been a year. A year since I heard your voice tell me how effortlessly powerful and beautiful I am. Since I heard you tell me that you have never had such unwavering faith in someone else’s success and that I would get everything I ever wanted. At that moment, all I wanted to do was deny that the moment would be something I would have to cherish for the rest of my life. A moment I will mourn when I am driving down the coast, wishing I could tell you more than anyone that I graduated college.
The way you cared for people through their thoughts and passions. The way you found to love someone wholly through the lens of their greatest strengths. Your ability to live so individually while simultaneously surrounded by so many people who loved you was inspiring. You bring light to even the darkest of times. And you, somehow, unintentionally teach the ones around you to see the light effortlessly.
I thought I saw your car a few days ago, and before that, I drove past your street. I pictured your blue Victorian-style apartment baking in the early stages of the summer sun. I thought about you on Mother's Day last week and felt your memories as my mother and I walked around the farmers market. I parked next to the building where I last saw you, when you last saw me when you broke down in tears as you reached for my embrace. The comfort we gave each other felt like tarnished magic, for you were not my mother, and we both knew I would not see you again.
It was later that final day together. I walked over to see you where you were staying at a friend’s place. Seeing you cry over letting me go made me realize how much love we divided among one another. In your own way, you became such a large part of my life. After that morning, I realized how much I would miss you asking questions about my studies or talking to me about visiting you for a tropical getaway in the summer. I would miss riding shotgun in your car as we spent our “girls’” days wasting away and gossiping about the joys of life. I knew I would miss the validation you gave by choosing to talk to me and spend time with me when I joined family vacations. I would miss exchanging hikes and stories about our day. I would miss going through each other’s camera rolls together and reminiscing.
Like I knew I would, I miss the moments I cannot share with you anymore. I will continue to miss wishing you a happy Mother’s Day and birthdays and picking out gifts for you during the holiday season. I will miss you during any milestone of personal growth, but I will always carry your influence in the back of my mind. However, on that day, as we sat in the garden across from one another, I knew most of all I would miss the trust you so graciously shared with me. The trust you had in me to love your son. You are a wonderful boy mom, but you were just as spectacular of a mother to me.
