Thursday, August 24, 2017

Come for lunch

Come over for lunch, I always tell him.  


I have plenty of food, and your brothers and I would love to see you.  And it's about the only time I can drag information out of you to see how you are doing.


I see what you are doing there - STOP IT.


Maybe tell me about your day.  How is it going with work?  What have you decided about moving to Leander? How are your finances lately?  Are you getting enough sleep?  I hate that vape thing!
Sigh. 
I guess I'm not done "momming" this one.  I worry about how he is navigating adulthood but I know I just need to LET GO ALREADY.


Spencer is 27 going on 14 - he's pretty silly at the lunch table.  Especially if one of the other boys are sitting there.  He gives them the wisdom of his wise-cracking opinionated self.  I call him Caveman because of his beard, and especially when I think he needs a haircut.


He's being good-natured about me taking his pic over and over, because I think he misses us a tiny bit and likes to come over to eat.  Someday he will find someone to share his free time with and although I will miss seeing him more often, my heart will be glad for him.  I think a lot of what we tried to impart to him over the years will make its way to the surface.  In particular I love that he has a strong work ethic and is really into what he does for a living as a mechanic.
So come over all you want for lunch, Spencer.



Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Dream feelings

Very early yesterday I awoke from a bad dream, featuring Dylan. 


We were walking along, he and I, and it was getting dark outside.  He seemed to be getting tireder and tireder, hanging on to me for support.  I asked him what was wrong and he said he hadn't been sleeping much.  At the same time, he was getting younger.  We were walking to someplace, and when we got there, he conducted his business at the counter with some woman while I waited.  I stepped up to the counter because I could hear them talking, and Dylan was curling himself up on the counter, as if to sleep.  I told him to get down, thinking, this really isn't appropriate that a grown person should be doing this!  The woman was carrying on with her business, barely noticing.  All the time Dylan was talking to her, but we finished up and left.  Flash forward a bit, and as we were walking away, he became a baby, maybe a year old or so.  It was apparent to me that he was very ill.  He was in a sort of box-like crib on the ground, struggling to breathe.  I was holding some suction tubing near him, trying to drain a serous fluid that was leaking out of him.  He also had an oxygen mask on, but I have no idea where it came from.  As I struggled to keep the fluid from engulfing him I thought to myself that I would continue to save him, even though I didn't know what I was really doing.  Then the dream ended. 

I guess this is a pretty easy dream to interpret.  He's growing up, with adult pressures and responsibilities.  But he's still at home, so I can offer him support and advice. He had some kind of intestinal bug when he was about a year old that alarmed the pediatrician.  No matter what I did, the diarrhea came every day for weeks, and it was a struggle for me as a working mom to balance that with two other kids and a full-time job.  I think I still worry about whether he will take care of himself. 
Dylan is a gentle soul of a person, and I worry that he is making slow progress to strike out on his own.  At the same time, I know that everyone has their own path and it can be very challenging.  Also, I worry about my kids in general as adults.  Did I hold their hands a little too long?  Was my mother right about loosening my grip? My gut feeling says no and I don't want them to feel like they are a burden to me.  But I feel like the time is coming pretty soon that Dylan will need to leave the nest.