My oldest son, you are entering new corners of the world. Corners in which I am not allowed to enter with you. But I will wait. I will wait for you to emerge from the unknown and back to my open, longing arms. 

I see glimpses of a man emerging where once a little boy stood. While the curiosity of your future self has a distinct stronghold on my imaginative mother mind, the little boy you once were has never failed to captivate my heart. It is difficult to believe I can love anyone more than that little boy. Yet, as your body, mind, and soul mature at Mach speeds, so does my eternal love for you. 

My biggest fear coupled with my deepest desire is for you to someday meet that special someone who will take your hand and divinely capture your soul. For the woman in your life to naturally and beautifully transition from mother to wife. Until that time, I will be the woman in your life. I will nurture you, teach you, protect you, encourage you, and tough-love you from heartbreak to breakthrough. 

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While our relationship may ebb and flow over time, transitioning to you needing me less and me needing you more, the one thing I know for certain is that one never forgets their first love.

And you, my son, you were mine . . . and I was yours.

That love will never fail to shine through the sands of time swiftly pushing us toward the future, inevitable changes, new relationships, old hurts, life difficulties, and seasons of pure joy.  

Before the pre-adolescent, one-word, barely audible answers, there was a steady stream of energetic baby babble. 

Before you were embarrassed to be seen with me in the morning car line, you were heartbroken to be separated from me each day at preschool drop-off. 

Before you developed the skills and competitive ability for your beloved sport of basketball, I was in the stands cheering loudly when you made your first basket, for the opponent’s side. Or when you effortlessly sank your first free-throw and proceeded to entertain the whole gym by a solo dance performance that lasted well into the second half of the game. 

When you had your first girlfriend and wanted to tell me every little detail about this little lady that captured your little boy heart.

Now I barely even know the girls that turn your head, much less weasel their way into your affectionate graces. 

When you threw a fit after being punished but quickly found the grace to forgive and smother me with hugs and kisses because you could not stand to be upset with your doting momma. Now, you go for days on end, giving me the silent treatment for some unknown thing I have said or done that simply ruffled those sweet little metaphorical feathers you wear on your sleeve.  

This morning, after a fully packed holiday weekend, you sat on my bed as I was getting ready for work. You were exhausted. You did not want to go to school. But you knew if you didn’t go to school, you could not play in tonight’s basketball game. 

As you sat on the edge of my bed, I sidled up beside you. I ran my fingers through your too-short hair. I took in the scent of you. I welcomed your heavy head on my shoulder as you just seemed so very weary.

My heart was rejoicing in the rare ability to feel close to you.

While my head was concerned about whether you had enough energy to make it through another long day. It seems our relationship has become one of extremes as you maneuver the man awakening deep inside of you where once the little boy stood. 

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The tides will turn, the seasons will change, the phases of your maturity will no doubt propel you directly toward the man you are meant to be. But you, my oldest son, you will never escape your mother’s deep abiding love.

My oldest son, you are entering new corners of the world. Corners in which I am not allowed to enter with you. But I will wait. I will wait for you to emerge from the unknown and back to my open longing arms.