Updated: March 13, 2018
Originally Published: March 2, 2016
“When I grow up, I’m going to be a man!” you exclaim, your face lit up with joy. I gently tickle your tummy, barely hidden beneath that well-worn Superman T-shirt you love so much. “Yes,” I reply with a smile, “one day you will be a man.”
Yet, as I smile, a wave of quiet reflection washes over me, filled with emotions I can’t quite articulate. When you become a man, those tiny fingers that cling to mine will eventually let go. I won’t feel the softness of your hand nestled in mine as we stroll along, searching for squirrels that are certainly evading our clever hunt. Another person will hold your hand then—someone who will experience the strength and confidence of a man. While those moments of trust and connection may fade from your memory, they will forever remain etched in mine.
When you grow older, you will no longer seek my permission. The innocent “Can I, Mommy?”—with your eyes wide and full of determination—will be replaced by a bold decisiveness as you carve your own path. I will be there, cheering you on from the sidelines, your biggest supporter.
In your future, you won’t ask me to tuck you in, yearning for my face to be the last thing you see before drifting off to sleep. You won’t plead for one more round of “Wheels on the Bus” or request a final hug before I turn off the lights. You may find yourself in your own home, with someone special beside you as you close your eyes. But I will always yearn for just one more lullaby, one last whisper of “Goodnight, Mama” before the lights go out.
As you grow, you won’t drag your blanket to the couch or climb into my lap, declaring, “I want to snuggle.” Jumping in puddles or calling yellow “yeh-yoh” will become distant memories. You won’t rush to greet me at the door or scribble little love notes in red crayon that I interpret as “I love you.” You won’t leap onto the kitchen counter, declaring your height superiority, only to wrap your arms around my neck as I feign disapproval, secretly loving to swing you around in delight.
No, when you become a man, you will embody the responsibility and restraint expected of adulthood. Still, a part of me hopes you’ll occasionally splash in puddles and, when no one else is around, mispronounce “yellow” just one last time.
As a man, you’ll be strong, humorous, and kind. I envision you writing heartfelt letters, this time filled with real words, expressing your love for someone special. You may even sing “Wheels on the Bus” again, but this time at the bedside of your own child, who begs for just a few more moments with Daddy before sleep.
Though you will always be my son, my joy, my laughter, and my bright light, you will no longer belong solely to me.
So, as I watch you beam with anticipation for the future, I do my best to match your excitement. “Yes, when you grow up, you will be a man,” I affirm.
But not today. Today, you’re still my little boy, and I’m holding on tight.
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Summary:
This heartfelt reflection explores the bittersweet transition from childhood to adulthood through a mother’s perspective on her son’s growth. She acknowledges the inevitable changes that will come as he matures, cherishing the present moments while preparing for the future. The article emphasizes the importance of maintaining connections and love even as children grow and become independent.