Think for Yourself

My youngest and I have had more than a week alone. For a boy who has football 48 weeks out of the 52-week year, it was an adjustment the first day or so. He has longer days than we do in the school year, and he got to rest this past week. He got to sleep in. And yes, he still had a chore list, but we took it very slow. Pushing things off until the next day when we could.

This week I realized gone are the times when entertainment is needed or something special to do because it was summer. We spent a lot of time in quiet. We spent other time working on projects. We spent some time just making each other laugh. But it was a good quiet and needed quiet. He'll be a senior this year, and I don't know if I'll have a week like this with him again.

So as much as I can, like others, waste some time scrolling or being distracted, I realize through motherhood there's far less of this and much more peace and presence when I'm with these two humans.

And I realized: if I ever seem distracted when I'm in conversation with you, I'm most likely thinking of my sweet family. I'm most likely wondering or wishing that I was close to them. I left a career years ago and said no to opportunities not as a sacrifice but for my own learnings looking back.

These realizations have grown from watching my boys become their own people. I've had a few tender moments recently that have reminded me why motherhood continues to be one of my greatest teachers. Really, any caretaking role we find ourselves in—whether professional or personal, whether we're caring for the young or those preparing to leave this world—offers these profound lessons.

My boys and I have very different opinions about the world sometimes. Different tastes, different things we love, different things we don't. Would it be easier at times if we were more similar? Perhaps. But I've come to treasure these differences. My youngest and I, for now, almost oppose each other with some of our thoughts, though for the most part we can talk about it and hear one another. What strikes me most is that we both have learned and not kept hard lines. And yes he has a whole life ahead of him to ebb and flow into his beliefs. Just as I ebb and flow out of beliefs I have held onto too tightly. 

One of my moments recently was when he said, "Mom, isn't it good that you raised me to think on my own and think for myself?" Please note he was also trying to "win" a discussion ;) And I thought, yes, it is. I also know that this sweet young man thinks on his own and for himself because of all those we've surrounded him with. This is the same boy I only ask a question when I want a very direct, short, simple answer. I know he will always tell me the truth when it comes to me, and that is rare in this world.

Where my youngest challenges me with his directness, my oldest offers a different kind of gift. My oldest and I can often talk about anything happening in the world. We may vary in our opinions or our take on what's going on, or even relationships and the past, but we listen. On a visit a couple months ago to see him in Los Angeles, within three minutes in the car we were having a lively discussion. We both looked at each other and realized that we were the only people that don't ever annoy one another and think so very differently at times.

These moments with both boys have taught me something important: I've said time and time again, I know the world can be a lot, but look for those you respect, look for those you can listen (learn) to and who actively listen to you. You might be surprised that they're just less than arm's reach from you.

I know in the blink of an eye, our family may look very different. The whole senior year thing and then poof. As much as my oldest and I talk about a family compound, it's too soon to tell if that will happen. So for now, I'll take the presence and peace of thinking differently, of having raised humans that think for themselves—with a lot of help from the friends around me