Last night we went to your high school orientation. It was oppressively hot. It didn’t start on time. Your schedule was not correct. Your anxiety and mine were palpable.
The past two years have been confusing and disappointing. You, like so many other kids, have had memories, experiences and time stolen by a pandemic that doesn’t want to surrender.
I, and so many other parents have had to helplessly flounder as we watch our babies struggle with their new reality.
You smile less, and your laughs are so elusive. I miss snuggling on the couch. I miss you not being able to fall asleep without dad or I tucking you in. I miss your hugs. I miss our talks. I miss you needing me.
Your friends have replaced us as the most important people in your life. I know that’s supposed to happen, and one day, you’ll return to us. But it doesn’t make it easy to accept, just because I understand why it’s happening. Some days I watch you walk out the door and my heart hurts.
You have no idea how your “I love you(s)” soothe my soul.
I pray and ask the universe that you continue to make wise decisions, stand up for yourself and others who cannot defend themselves and love your family.
For now I’ll just steal and lock away all of the little moments I can.
bean láidir 