The one who sat on my lap and listened to bedtime stories first…is now officially a young man.

When did the Bob the Builder lunch bag, the Pokemon cards, and the high voice disappear?

I look up at him and the reality sinks in that his reliance on me and his dad is fleeting. Here in this moment, yet ever so translucent, like the cloud of air released by breath on a January day in Nebraska. Gone tomorrow.

I had to learn to let him go…from my lap, from the special reading spot, from the longer conversations, from his shared bedroom with his brother, from the extended hugs.

But I realized, only through letting him go, am I able to witness how far he is capable of soaring himself.

I feel in my heart that I did well even when my head starts to doubt.

Is he ready?
Will he get hurt?
Does he know I’ll never judge him?
That we all make mistakes?
That true love is hard?
Will he embrace his potential?
Without a shadow of doubt?
Will he remain humble?
Can I still hold his hand (when no one’s looking)?

The most ironic thing is that I still remember rocking him back and forth in his first bedroom with walls adorned in Noah’s arc stencils, the bunk beds, and the hard wood floors.

In that time and place when I was practically busting at the seams with his brother in my belly and having little room left on my lap, I worried and wondered as I turned the book pages, Will he be ok when he no longer has me for just himself?

The answer is a resounding YES. He is ok.

I, on the other hand, am only doing so-so.

Happy 14th birthday. Your dad and I are so very lucky to have been blessed with you and cannot wait to see what life has in store for you.