And it’s times like these,
as I watch my younger son head out the door on a camping trip with his father
that my heart swells with joy for them
while a fog of unfairness looms in the background
It’s times like these
that
as a mother
I feel so fucking helpless
knowing that Andrew cannot participate in this trip
knowing that Ian deserves this break
knowing my husband’s excitement at being able to spend this precious time with one of his boys is laced with bitter -sweetness because the other son has to be left behind
knowing that as I packed the marshmallows and pulp-free orange juice, I let myself imagine, just for a little while, Andrew beating everyone to the top of an uphill 3 mile hike, Andrew making his very own s’mores at the campfire, Andrew telling spooky stories under a protective blanket of stars, Andrew free and strong and healthy.
It was my hot, unexpected tears that finally brought me back to reality, where my life resides
a place that’s mostly wonderful, inspiring, and fabulous
but sometimes,
when I’m forced to buy enough eggs and bacon for two instead of three,
also kinda
shitty.
I only have Andrew, he is just a little boy. We went to the beach this past weekend, and as I watched the other families with 3 or 4 kids build their castles, play catch, I kept thinking of my only son. He likes to run around from the sand to the water, we have to follow him the whole time, he only sits down for a drink or a bite to eat. My heart was so heavy, I kept wondering why “him”, why “us”? All of a sudden he looks at me, starts running my way and gives me a big hug! I told my husband, who was right behind Andy, how did he know I needed a hug? I love my little boy, I wanted so many for him…I know how you feel!