 |
| [Flow Rider] |
The gifts are cool but years from now, when someone asks him what he got for his 14th birthday, there's a good chance he will not remember. |
| But today after school while I was baking his favorite cake, I gave him the list I printed out yesterday. I am pretty sure he will always remember. |
 |
| I'm hoping that love and connection will far outlast the gifts he opened today. |
Even though I haven't posted pictures from our adventures this past winter, my sons and I made a spontaneous trip to the mountains in January. While I have made huge strides in my snowboarding skills, I am still not a big fan of going at night and freezing, quite literally, my buns off. Therefore, I thought about convincing him to leave when the sun went down and not use all of his "Twilight" pass.
But I didn't.
Thank goodness, I didn't.
I went on lift after lift like I did when he was little and took advantage of our talk time in the quiet night. Once the temp dropped below -11 he said, "Okay, mom, that's enough."
The snow had been blowing all night as it was coming down. Other than a few bathroom breaks, we had not stopped since noon, as he rode his board countless times off of jumps and rails.
"What's your favorite season?"
Max's question appeared out of nowhere just as randomly as the snowmobile hosting an injured skier suddenly glided down the hill.
I described my love for fall and the colors of the leaves. When I asked him about his favorite season, he rattled off all four, got stuck on the topic of X-games and went on a tangent about not liking the half-pipe except for riding down the middle.
After finishing our cups of hot chocolate and other topics of conversation he appeared to have something more to say about the snowboarders and started to say sometimes, but then his voice stopped after the single word, leaned his snowboard against mine and said, " I love you, Mom."
I couldn't remember the last time he said those words. Maybe a month or so ago. They hung in the air like a flashing yellow light that it was time to go with the flow, remember this moment, absorb his words.
And then, because some thoughts need to be repeated, he said, "It's fun snowboarding with you Mom." But this time he added something more. "All my friends think you are the coolest."
I didn't want to ask, but I kinda had to...
"Do you think that?"
"Most the time," he said matter of fact.
As we slowly made our way back to reality, his hand squeezed a little tighter around mine. I could almost hear the words he will think while in the dark of the night after counting useless sheep. It is the same memory I have of my Mom on my 10th birthday.
When I was ten my mom let me stay in the ocean for as long as I wanted. I remember how I was in charge of when we returned to shore; she didn't seem to have anywhere she needed to go or anywhere else she wanted to be.
I remember how her eyes crinkled up as she laughed when I told her about how much fun I had surfing. And how her smile lingered like the smell of sunscreen on her skin. I remember how it felt to be on the gentle waves splashing against my skin. Even the salt water tasted sweet. I was in the deep part of the ocean, but I was not afraid; I was in my mother's view.
The day I turned ten, my mom gave me a glimpse and through that she has given me the best gift of all. The glimpse that the gift of time is the most precious gift to give our kids or anyone we love really.
I am so glad I had the chance to give that time to Max. Just like my mom did. It will be what I remember about her to soothe my broken heart and bring laughter to my face long after she leaves this earth.
 |
| {January 2013} |
