My Sweet Boy

Seeing your son through the eyes of another is a beautiful experience. Or it can be. And it was tonight.

When young men are teens, moms see them as works in progress: Amazing, frustrating, stinky, brilliant, lazy, unfocused and full of potential, or at least that’s been my experience. And our view is skewed and distorted and one-sided. We’re parents. Our line of sight is very narrow.

Tonight, I saw my son differently, beautifully actually. I watched him interact with his aunt and his grandparents and strangers on the Memory Unit of their home. I watched him hold hands with an old woman who had no idea she was so old, hug his Aunt even though I don’t think she knew who he was, kiss his Grandmom even as she stared blankly. I watched my 17-year old sweet young man show compassion both for those who’ve loved him since he was a baby and those whom he only met this evening. I saw in him a maturity of which I am incredibly proud.

My sweet boy is growing up in so many ways. I am so proud of him for his intellect and his creativity. But truly there is nothing that makes me so proud as the compassion and love my sweet boy shows for those who need it. One can only judge themselves on how they treat those less fortunate, those in need, and this evening, my son, the boy with the greatest sense of humor I’ve ever seen and the creativity that will take him so far in life, tonight he showed his true value in his tender treatment of those who needed it most.