I’m fresh from my visit to LA to
see my son. It had been eight months
since I last had eyes on him and we were long overdue for some bonding time. Much
had transpired in the past, almost, year. Stephen had transitioned from his
former apartment to his father’s home and now a studio apartment. He moved on
from a long-term personal relationship and landed an amazing job. I moved from working in our family business
to running my own talent acquisition consulting business, underwent two major
surgeries, and started to move forward in my personal life. My son and I speak
at least every other day and Facetime when we can. I’m grateful for modern
technology to help keep us connected and see each other in real time, but
nothing compares to being in the same space and breathing the same air.
When I first saw my son, I became
“that mom”. After hugging him as hard as I could and taking in the moment, I bellowed,
“You look way too thin. We need to get some food in you and now”. He laughed
and said “Mom, I’m fine and I eat plenty”. And, then, of course, we headed
off to lunch, followed by ice cream, where I attempted to fatten him up.
That evening my son brought me to
his apartment. A week prior, and all on
his own, he had moved himself in, purchased furniture and the necessary
household accouterments one needs when setting up home, and worked feverishly
in the evenings to set up what would now be his home. His home! No longer my home or his dads home,
but a beautiful blend of both coupled with his style. I was struck by how smartly, effectively and
efficiently he used every inch of his space. I was proud of the environment he
created for himself and even more excited to see how genuinely happy he was in
his new space.
We spent the next few days visiting
friends and walking all over Culver City. We toured his new office, ate out, a
lot, (see note on fattening him up), and spent time discussing how much he loves
his job, the exciting projects he’s working on, how he’s managing his finances
and putting money away each month, and new ideas for movies he’d like to write
and direct. Every part of this trip
screamed of him being all grown up. Who
was this kid? Who raised him and when did he get so savvy about navigating being
an adult?
My move to Charlotte, two years
prior, came as a surprise due to a great job offer. As a result, I sold our
home in Pasadena and transitioned Stephen into an apartment. A friend of ours
offered a studio apartment he had on his property. I had one day to move him in and then hop a
plane back to Charlotte. Everything was happening at warp speed and my son and
I were in tactical mode, checking off all of the “to do’s”. Then, on my last morning in LA, at the God
forsaken hour of 4 am, as I backed out of the driveway of the studio apartment and
headed to the airport, it hit me, and hard. Real hard. All I could picture was my son fast asleep on
the other side of the wall and knowing I was leaving him there. That he would
awaken in a few hours and I would no longer be there. I didn’t just cry, I
wept. Hard. Uncontrollably. I was unable to breath and questioned every part of
my decision to move to Charlotte.
Since the moment I knew I was
going to have a son until that moment, we had been inseparable and now, I was
leaving him to immediately stand on his own while I was 3,000 miles
away. Nothing prepared me for that moment and, although I felt as if my heart was
being ripped out of my chest, it was the right kind of hurt. We were both in
a state of natural transition and progression. Him onto grown up things and me
onto bigger career opportunities. Over the next few months, we’d find our
footing with the new lives we had been thrust into. I’m always amazed at how
adaptable we human beings are.
As my plane took off from LAX, my heart felt that all too familiar ache. I was comforted in knowing
my son is happy, like really happy, He’s nailing this adulting thing, has a
kick butt apartment that is wholly symbolic of who he is, he loves
his job and living in the crazy that is LA, and, most importantly, he still
enjoys hanging out with his mom when I come to visit. All of this confirmed
that I, (we) made the right decision moving to Charlotte. It was a bold and courageous move for us both
and we’ve grown in our own necessary ways, but never apart.
As I returned home to Charlotte and settled in for the
night, I couldn’t help but reflect on the amazing time I had with my son and
for the gentle confirmations it provided. I realized that he’s got this thing called
life; a life I spent the last 22 years equipping him for. I sent him a goodnight text
that said, “I’m beyond proud of the man you’re becoming. As hard as it was
to leave you today, I now know that “you’ve got this” and you’ll be just fine.
Be good, stay true to yourself and your core principles and values and always
make good choices. I love you more than you know. Mom!” And with that, I
turned out the light, whispered a prayer of gratitude and realized that I too
have, finally, got this!
