My son Jordan turned 16 today.
Where has the time flown?
Where has the time flown?
I see this lanky young man standing before me, and images of a newborn baby with a full head of hair and tiny, long fingers flash before my eyes. I can still hear him, as a toddler, clapping his hands and singing when we were on the bus home after an outing one day, entertaining the other passengers with his infectious joy and little chipmunk voice.
I miss the long, curly ponytail that he'd had to have cut off when he started primary school -- a lock of hair that we'd left uncut since he was a baby.
I miss the little boy who used to quietly slip his hand into mine or his Dad's whenever he needed reassurance, the child who would unhesitatingly climb onto our laps for a kiss and a cuddle whenever he wanted because he was so confident of our love.
The young man who stands before me today won't let me hug him in public because it's uncool and embarrassing. But every night before he goes to bed, he willingly gives me a goodnight kiss, and returns the occasional hug that I manage to steal.
This young man no longer tells us everything, and there are things in his life that we do not know about. But while we've taught him that privacy is to be respected, he also knows that it is not to be abused; that truth and trust are to be held in even higher regard. So I'm grateful that he still willingly tells us about his day, choosing to share with us the things that matter -- his friends, his thoughts, his fears and his dreams.
As I look at Jordan today, I still see my baby, my little boy. But I also see the sensitive, compassionate, peace-loving and intelligent teenager that he is, and the wonderful man that he is becoming.
And I am grateful for this very precious gift that God entrusted into our care.
Happy birthday, son.
I miss the long, curly ponytail that he'd had to have cut off when he started primary school -- a lock of hair that we'd left uncut since he was a baby.
I miss the little boy who used to quietly slip his hand into mine or his Dad's whenever he needed reassurance, the child who would unhesitatingly climb onto our laps for a kiss and a cuddle whenever he wanted because he was so confident of our love.
The young man who stands before me today won't let me hug him in public because it's uncool and embarrassing. But every night before he goes to bed, he willingly gives me a goodnight kiss, and returns the occasional hug that I manage to steal.
This young man no longer tells us everything, and there are things in his life that we do not know about. But while we've taught him that privacy is to be respected, he also knows that it is not to be abused; that truth and trust are to be held in even higher regard. So I'm grateful that he still willingly tells us about his day, choosing to share with us the things that matter -- his friends, his thoughts, his fears and his dreams.
As I look at Jordan today, I still see my baby, my little boy. But I also see the sensitive, compassionate, peace-loving and intelligent teenager that he is, and the wonderful man that he is becoming.
And I am grateful for this very precious gift that God entrusted into our care.
Happy birthday, son.
1 comment:
What a lovely tribute...both to Jordan, and to the joys and yes, even some sadness that is part and parcel of a mother's love...Simone
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