sixteen

He backs up the truck and I can feel my heart being dragged along the coarse driveway. It burns. And my breath feels short.  My eyes stay fixed on him... until finally, he is out of my view, beyond the turn. How is it that this time has come?

Sixteen.
It kind of makes me want to sob.

His entrance into the world completed our family, our little circle of four. Although I was scared of a boy, I loved him instantly and fiercely... the way a mother does.  He loved having his hair washed...he cooed when I expected wailing. His deep chuckly laugh reverberated in my heart, and I would continue on whatever I was doing, just to hear it again. And his little quiver chin? I thought I would swoon each and every time. I soaked in those memories... and am so thankful that they remain, just a bit faded with time.

I watch him when I think he won't know, but he is not oblivious to the weight of my eyes on him. I give him the sorry grimace, and let him be. When I am busy, he offers his help. And when it is just us, he'll still lean in, and rest on my shoulder.  He continues to surprise me... and I count myself blessed.  So blessed.

I'm waiting for the door to swing open and his hullo to carry through the air... and before I know it, he is home, safe and sound.  And once again, I can breathe...