Happy birthday, Son

Most often it was when I stood at one end of the kitchen table, talking to someone in the family, catching up on our day, that Rafael would raise both arms and look at me with his big Junior Mint eyes. When I bent to lift him, he'd help by jumping and wrapping his legs fully around my waist. Next, he'd rest his head on my left shoulder and hold on tight. He was 8 when this started, a little more than a year after his mom, Molly, and I started dating, and a few months after we moved in together to start our life as a family.

Today, Rafa turned 17. He is less than an inch from passing me at 5' 10" and hasn't jumped into my arms in several years. He sat on my knee, though, last night, as he, Molly, and I joyfully recounted our favorite scenes from Guardians of the Galaxy, the viewing of which was our birthday eve outing.

Every day I learn something about myself as a parent, and every day Rafa is there to inspire me, challenge me, be patient with me. As I watch him tumbling into young adulthood, I find myself hoping I am doing the same for him - inspiring and challenging.

He could use a good dose of challenging. Following through on responsibilities is not a strong suit. Occasions of downright disrespect are happening with more frequency. In these moments it is hard for me to trust the universe and believe that this teenager will move out into the world and make a go of it completely on his own.

When a few days ago I read this stanza, by the poet Nikki Giovanni, I thought immediately of Rafael, myself, and our lives as mom and son:

But I grew up
And learned
Trust and love
Are crafts we practice
Are wheels
We balance
Our lives on
Are BICYCLES
We ride
Through challenges and changes

Trust and love are not always easily exchanged between teenager and parent. But how beautiful to see them as something to continue crafting, as something to move us forward. As something to take us on an adventure as we both grow older.

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