A bridge was crossed yesterday. A milestone reached. And I'm not sure how I feel about it.
I was up to my eyeballs in paperwork, telephone calls, and official emails. Lunchtime descended. My son broached the subject of what to eat. Food and serving food was the last thing on my mind. What was on my mind was what was on the paper in my hands.
That's when it happened.
Without even looking up from the document I was reviewing, I asked my son to make his own lunch . . . his own sandwich, namely.
And he did it.
Somehow, while I continued to read on, he located the bread, the peanut butter, the jelly, the apple, and even selected a yogurt.
And he ate.
And then cleaned up.
I finally tore myself away from my desk long enough to take him to his chess meet.
And then I went back to my reading and my calling and my waiting to be called.
And then we ran errands for three hours.
And pretty soon I was kissing my boy goodnight.
And it was only after I sat down with my husband and reviewed the day's happenings that I realized that my son had made his own lunch for the very first time. And my heart squeezed a little.
He's ten years old. More than capable of making his own sandwich, I know. And I know it is something he should be relied upon to do from time to time, with growing frequency as he gets older.
But, from the time he was born, I promised myself I would not miss a thing. I would not take anything for granted. I promised myself, and my boy, that I would not wake up one day with a grown man for a son and not remember it happening. That I would take notice of the little things, the measures of progress, and the milestones, for I fervently believe my great-grandmother's adage, "Every step they take is a step away from you."
My boy took a big step away from me yesterday. He made his own sandwich. And from now on, it will be nice if I make him a sandwich, but not necessary. Not necessary.
And it did, it snuck by me in an instant when I wasn't paying attention.
One more step away from me.
Time goes so quickly when you're watching a child grow.
My boy is on his way.
But as I look around the house, I am comforted. . .
With all the socks he has still not learned to put in the hamper, he won't get too far.
Saturday Morning Post
12 hours ago