
November 1, 1983 at 2:35p.m. my son came into my life and breathed his first breath of air, I took my first breath of air as a mother. And I learned that I had already made his aquaintance 9 months earlier than anyone else in the world will ever know him. He was a part of me. And he will always be a part of me. This blog today is not going to be humorous. It is going to be my way of letting him know how very much I love him, how proud I am to have a son such as he is. He is my best friend in this whole crazy world of broken dreams, and lost loves. He and I have been through a lot of hard to handle times.
The year before he was born, I gave birth to a stillborn baby girl. So yes,he was wanted by me, like I want air to breath.I love him with all that I have to give, nd all that I am. I will do anything for him short of murder, and if someone hurt him, that might be a possiblity too. We are very much alike in a lot of ways, our love of learning new things, new gadgets, new people, new places. If you wonder what I look like, look at the above photo and you will get a pretty good idea. His baby photos look astoundingly like mine. He is also stubborn like me and moody at times. But we get along like peanut butter and jelly on bread. We love the same food, except he is very much in tune with oriental type foods, and I can't even stand to be in the same room when they are being prepared.
We have faced the death of his half brother when he was 12, which sent his Dad into a depression he never recovered from. When we found out his Dad had congestive heart failure, we were there to support him. When his Dad became abusive to me, a short while later, he was my support. When his Dad passed away when he was 15, he was the only reason I put my feet on the floor every morning. He was my parent for a while. I was not in very good shape and had began a slide into depression that had me sleeping around 15 to 16 hours a day and not eating.
This is the story of what he did that pulled me out of the hole I was losing my life to.
He came to the bedroom door, and asked if he could bake some chocolate chip cookies. I mumbled something I don't remember what, and went back to sleep. Around 2 hours later, I heard him knock again, and I rudely yelled what is it now?
He opened the door and in his hands were a plate of 4 huge chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. They were burned on the edges and raw in the middle. The look of utter joy at his accomplishment was enough to make me sit up and smile. I waved him into the room and we sat on my bed with our backs to the wall and ate the cookies and drank the milk. And we talked. I forced myself to not break down and cry this time and end the converstion as had been the norm for a few months. We fell asleep there and when I woke up he was gone. But I heard him in the kitchen on the phone with my mother. And he was crying with relief that I had eaten the cookies. I did not realize I had not eaten anything in 3 days. They were going to have to force me into the hospital if something did not happen that next day. I have never allowed myself to be that weak ever again.
Even when I was taking my Dad for chemotherapy for a lung tumor that was not going to go away, even when I had to tell him and my mom that the hospital had called me and Dad was gone, making the arrangements, and the funeral.
Then last year on Nov. 14, 2005 after sitting in the ICU day and night for 4 days we sat together and watched as my mother, his grandmother,as that beautiful woman left our lives,and went to be with her beloved. He was with me through all of the arrangements and the funeral, and all of the people who flooded our home afterward. He stood with me and I could be strong.
He is MY SON. He is MY LIFE. He is the REASON I LIVE. He is GOD'S GIFT TO MY LIFE.
And today he is 23 years old, enrolled in college to become a microbiological engineer. He is living on his own, by himself, strong, and self sufficent to a certain point. He still loves my Maytags, and how I make his shirts smell when He cons me into doing his laundry every week.
Thankyou God for the gift you gave to women when you gave us the ability to give the world the future.
lockerridge
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