There are moments in all of our lives that are unforgettable. Some are steeped in pain and loss, some are overcome with joy and celebration. There are times and places and people and smells and specifics that we sometimes just can’t forget. Some of these moments are what we expect to be life changing….birth, death, marriage, loss, tragedy….and some are just days that take us by surprise. Some are moments that when you are in them, you want time to slow down. You want to breath in deeper to make it last. You want to look around and soak in every detail of what your life is in that very moment because you know, without a doubt, that THIS will be a moment or a memory you won’t forget. Tonight was one of those for me.
Yesterday was August 6th, and it was the day before my twin boys, Brooks and Connor, turned 18. It was my first day back to work after an amazing weekend in Chicago with my precious mom, and reality was an uncomfortable welcome from the respite of great food, too much wine and amazing culture.
Near the end of the day, around 3:30, I was sitting in my office stuck on a project and I slowed down enough to listen to the silence around me. Suddenly what I noticed was the sound of cicadas. I thought about how some of these insects live underground for 17 years before emerging and how brief their lives really are. And I realized that if I was hearing the song of night-time bugs, that fall must be drawing closer. My heart ached for a minute as I realized that time was marching on, and the long lazy days of summer would soon be over.
The last full summer I probably had all 3 of my kids at home was quickly ending.
The first of the lasts was right. around. the. corner….and my heart hurt.
My memories rushed back the the sweltering August 6th in 2001 when my labor had been induced and I had “not progressed” despite 18 hours of pitocin. I thought back to how my baby boys’ birthday really should of been 8/6/01, but that instead, they would share a birthday with my brother, their uncle, Jason, and how I knew that secretly he was so excited for the delay.
I immediately thought about how damned fast these 18 years had flown by and how the song of the cicadas meant that their last football season was literally right around the corner. As I thought about all of the lasts I would experience over the next several months, my mind raced to all of the firsts, and the seconds, and the missed opportunities, and the successes and the failures and the doubts and the what ifs.
Like anyone facing the harsh reality of sending their children away to the “real world”, my mind was filled with all of the expectation I had for myself as a parent and I prayed and hoped that somehow, someday, my kids will think I achieved what I had set out for. As I envisioned my precious babies officially stepping into adulthood, I choked back tears and wondered if I had done enough to prepare them.
And then today I woke up and it was August 7th. I had to wake Brooks because he had overslept and I hugged him and kissed his forehead and laid beside him in his bed and breathed in the smell of his long hair and said a prayer that I had done enough, and that he was ready for all that lies ahead. I prayed that as he stepped into adulthood, he would remember all we had tried to instill, and would forgive all the missteps we had along the way.
As I was leaving for work, Connor was just waking up and just like he does each time he sees me, he hugged me and told me he loved me. I held on a little longer as I wished him a happy birthday and I soaked in his sleepy face and his tenderness. I said a silent prayer that his innocence and his genuineness would never fade. I prayed that through the last 18 years, I had given him enough confidence to conquer the big huge exciting world that is ahead of him.
At last minute, and completely disorganized, I decided I would pick up BBQ and invite the boys’ friends over to celebrate their big day. A list of 8-10 turned quickly into 15. The stress of clean floors and appetizing displays and matching tissue in gift bags quickly faded as our house filled with love, laughter, bawdy humor, quick wit, and overwhelming joy.
15 boys, and Connor’s trooper of a girlfriend, Kennedy, put away 8 pounds of barbeque, made fun of each other, celebrated old victories, retold sports stories, cracked inside jokes, confided in me and Shawn, and just embraced the celebration of Brooks and Connor being 18. One of their friends hugged me and said “thank you for having two amazing boys that I’m lucky enough to call my friends”…..I’m not sure there is a better compliment. And Parker, you’re welcome bud…the pleasure is all mine.
I sat back and I watched kids come and go and sprawl over our couches and floors and sit by torch light outside and tease each other and love on one another in a way that only the best of friends can. As I write this in my room, which has a door out to the deck , I still can hear the lingering handful of voices of the boys who have stuck around. Those that I know will be around in another 18 or 28 years. Those that are the definition of friends.
I watched my husband, who coaches and mentors each of these boys, sit back and feel pride knowing that for 18 years, we absolutely haven’t done everything right, but somewhere along the way, we did pretty good.
As I sat in my office and listened to the cicadas yesterday and thought about the irony that they only emerge every 17 years, I didn’t realize that in just a short 24 hours, I would experience that same emergence as I literally watched my boys become adults. There was something different about tonight. The air was sweeter and the laughter was louder and the hugs lasted longer. The doubts and the prayers and the what ifs took a back seat and were replaced with a sense of accomplishment and pride and acknowledgement that right before my eyes, my boys were becoming men.
I wasn’t begging the cicadas to stop singing earlier. It’s ok that the days are getting shorter, and that fall is right around the corner. It’s ok that I haven’t done everything right, and it’s ok that my sweet boys, who were 17 yesterday and 18 today, are not going to be mine forever. This world is going to be a better place with them in it and I tonight I knew that I probably haven’t done enough for some, but for my boys, they will always know that I have done my best.
Those moments you don’t forget….those moments that change your life and stick with you forever…yep, tonight was one of those nights.
-H
Our Thousand Days 