My Sweet Boy,
Today you noticed something. It's been there for a while but you've just awoken to it like a song you've heard a thousand times played on a strange instrument. Same chords, same melody, same song. But somehow amazingly different.
I've been on this long road before and so I was waiting for this moment, half dread half eager. All not ready.
Sweet Son: "Mom, why is that lady looking at me."
Me: "It's your fro."
(Sometime I will apologize for using humor as armor and deflection. It's reflexive and innate and a hard fought battle.)
It was not your fro- though it is one awesome head of hair. Or the massive gap in your teeth that you could drive a cement mixer through (your teeth have absorbed your sense of time...slow). Nope, I'm sure to my bones she was looking at your gorgeous, deep, onyx skin.
It wasn't a bad stare, kind boy. And, it's not a bad thing. (You know I'm curious and sometimes stare inappropriately as do you. You come by it honestly.)
But, as the realization spreads across your face so does the pain in your eyes. And the crack in my heart, proportionally.
You've realized today what you've always known but now it looks different in the eyes of a world that sees us as different. Like the dusk when the light begins to fade and what was once bright and glorious somehow seems dim. Today you saw the dim.
There is no burying or hiding that we are different. Our family was formed differently. Out of something hard and painful and broken- but beautiful-be came the us you know and love. And the world sees that. They see our contrast.
So much of who we are is the same, 1 heart, 2 eyes, wide smile. But so much is not and today you took that into your small heart and brain and began to turn it over and over like a stone in your palm.
And so I offer you other stones. Memory stones to stack as if standing in front of the River Jordan. Stones to remind you that different is part of us, part of a plan that has built our walls and set our boundary lines. And they are good. Stones to take hold and turn over and over when the different seems heavy.
You have your father's eyes- eyes that notice sunsets and every shade of color within.
You have your father's hands- hands meant to build, callouses like triumphs of battles won.
You have your father's spirit- patient and kind and forgiving. Always forgiving before it is asked.
You have your brother's laugh- part cackle, part snort, pure joy.
You have your sister's wiles- sneaky and mischievous. Perfect partners in crime.
You have your mother's heart- neither of us can abide the sadness of others.
You have your mother's determination- relentless.
You have your aunt's self assurance- you know your heart.
You were wanted deeply before you were known.
You were fought for and refused to be lost.
You were saved and redeemed when others were not.
And you have always been deeply loved.
This is the love of a mother and father. The heart of a family. There is no difference in this love and that is what defines it. Family love, real love takes the difference in absorbs it and uses it to create something more. Something more full and more blessed than before. Make this love your stone.
You are as much us, more, than you are not. Remember US when it gets dim. You did not grow in me and we are different in ways others are not. But that makes us us. And you were made for me.
And that stone that is US is jagged and rough in spots. But it is perfect.
Today you noticed something. It's been there for a while but you've just awoken to it like a song you've heard a thousand times played on a strange instrument. Same chords, same melody, same song. But somehow amazingly different.
I've been on this long road before and so I was waiting for this moment, half dread half eager. All not ready.
Sweet Son: "Mom, why is that lady looking at me."
Me: "It's your fro."
(Sometime I will apologize for using humor as armor and deflection. It's reflexive and innate and a hard fought battle.)
It was not your fro- though it is one awesome head of hair. Or the massive gap in your teeth that you could drive a cement mixer through (your teeth have absorbed your sense of time...slow). Nope, I'm sure to my bones she was looking at your gorgeous, deep, onyx skin.
It wasn't a bad stare, kind boy. And, it's not a bad thing. (You know I'm curious and sometimes stare inappropriately as do you. You come by it honestly.)
But, as the realization spreads across your face so does the pain in your eyes. And the crack in my heart, proportionally.
You've realized today what you've always known but now it looks different in the eyes of a world that sees us as different. Like the dusk when the light begins to fade and what was once bright and glorious somehow seems dim. Today you saw the dim.
There is no burying or hiding that we are different. Our family was formed differently. Out of something hard and painful and broken- but beautiful-be came the us you know and love. And the world sees that. They see our contrast.
So much of who we are is the same, 1 heart, 2 eyes, wide smile. But so much is not and today you took that into your small heart and brain and began to turn it over and over like a stone in your palm.
And so I offer you other stones. Memory stones to stack as if standing in front of the River Jordan. Stones to remind you that different is part of us, part of a plan that has built our walls and set our boundary lines. And they are good. Stones to take hold and turn over and over when the different seems heavy.
You have your father's eyes- eyes that notice sunsets and every shade of color within.
You have your father's hands- hands meant to build, callouses like triumphs of battles won.
You have your father's spirit- patient and kind and forgiving. Always forgiving before it is asked.
You have your brother's laugh- part cackle, part snort, pure joy.
You have your sister's wiles- sneaky and mischievous. Perfect partners in crime.
You have your mother's heart- neither of us can abide the sadness of others.
You have your mother's determination- relentless.
You have your aunt's self assurance- you know your heart.
You were wanted deeply before you were known.
You were fought for and refused to be lost.
You were saved and redeemed when others were not.
And you have always been deeply loved.
This is the love of a mother and father. The heart of a family. There is no difference in this love and that is what defines it. Family love, real love takes the difference in absorbs it and uses it to create something more. Something more full and more blessed than before. Make this love your stone.
You are as much us, more, than you are not. Remember US when it gets dim. You did not grow in me and we are different in ways others are not. But that makes us us. And you were made for me.
And that stone that is US is jagged and rough in spots. But it is perfect.
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