In less than two weeks my oldest will turn 26. Imagine that. How the heck did it happen?

He’s done good for himself. Parents are only a foundation, a base. As parents, we can’t take all the credit. To do so is a discredit to them as a person in their own right.

I miss him living in Chicago. His love for math and conceptualizing the world paid off. He’s using his civil engineering degree. And making it. On his terms.

I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday. Late in the afternoon. May 18th. The day Mount Saint Helen’s blew. 5:40 pm. Sunday. A head of black hair, wide-eyed at the new world around him. No fuss. A strong nurser. Happy. Stitched him to my tit for the first nine months. First teeth. First step. Kindergarten. First haircut in 5th grade. Almost as long as mine. His first crush. High School graduation. College graduation. And lots in between.

I remember what he taught me over the years. To hope and dream. To have that wide-eyed wonderment of the world. To always maintain your innocence. To never give up. To love. To Laugh.

I remember what we’ve shared. Laughing. Really, seriously, belly hurting, gasping for air and pissing my pants laughing. Tears the day he left for college. The frustrations of finding his way as a child, as a young adult and as a man. Anger at the mistreatment of a disabled peer. A totaled car. Broken wrist. Broken elbow. Various other twisted body parts. Love of baseball. Love of racing. Love of learning. Love.

Funny, I never saw him as the tender, caring one. With his finance’s juvenile diabetes he has learned what it means to take care of oneself and of another. Completely. He tests her sugar when she sleeps. Prepares and gives her shots. He nurtures her. And I know he loves her beyond all reason. That thread of light is visible between them. So sweet.
They marry 12 November of this year. About time. They’ve been together 5 years. His dream redhead. Beautiful, sweet, and the most upbeat, always laughing, goofy, loving woman I’ve ever met. I will be proud to call her my daughter.

No, he’s not my only pride and joy. Just the oldest of them.

It was just after his 21st birthday at a concert in Denver where I fully realized he was a man. Not because of age. But because of his maturity and sense of self. We had gone to see Eric Clapton to celebrate as his birthday present. First time we shared a legal drink together. It was there he shared Jen. I saw his heart. At that moment I realized I truly liked what I saw in him as a person-Not just as my son. A wicked sense of humor. Accepting of others. Strong in his convictions. Determined. Sometimes stubborn. A gentle man. An emotionally secure person. Caring and sensitive. Generous. Honest to a fault. But never cruel.

I picked songs for all the children before they were born. His was Joni Mitchell’s, Circle Game. Funny how that fit so perfectly. And that he still knows the words. This is the one I will dance with him at his wedding. One of his favorites as a child. As if he knew the meaning. I do believe he does.

Do I feel old? No. Just grateful to know such a sweet man and wonderful person. And ever so proud to be Momma.