by feline9
I saw him in the rear view mirror… , much as I did fifteen years ago, the day he started Kindergarten… barely a backwards glance… off to explore strange new worlds… conquer new horizons… did he stop to think about me and how I would be feeling? No. It was, as it SHOULD be… he barely took notice that day, as the other little four and five year olds fell in step behind the teacher also… barely noticed, if at all, the tears streaming down my face… the stronghold on my heart as the air was being squeezed out of my lungs… I couldn’t breathe… Surely this was how it felt to strangle on your own love?
I felt that, fifteen years ago… I felt that, on his first date… I felt that on Prom night, I felt that today, as we said goodbye to him in Dallas at his new apartment… College starts Monday… and, as we start back towards San Antonio… I, once again, can barely breathe…. His beautiful face, transformed into that of a four year old child… that’s who I see momentarily behind me in the rear view mirror…. Then, as if by magic… he is transformed into the 6 foot 2 inch, nineteen year old, young man that he’s grown into… that everyone else sees…. I turn to wave one last time, as the truck turns the corner and he is lost from my sight…. And the tears stream down…
I don’t know that I’m going to make it through this one.
by feline9
I saw him in the rear view mirror… , much as I did fifteen years ago, the day he started Kindergarten… barely a backwards glance… off to explore strange new worlds… conquer new horizons… did he stop to think about me and how I would be feeling? No. It was, as it SHOULD be… he barely took notice that day, as the other little four and five year olds fell in step behind the teacher also… barely noticed, if at all, the tears streaming down my face… the stronghold on my heart as the air was being squeezed out of my lungs… I couldn’t breathe… Surely this was how it felt to strangle on your own love?
I felt that, fifteen years ago… I felt that, on his first date… I felt that on Prom night, I felt that today, as we said goodbye to him in Dallas at his new apartment… College starts Monday… and, as we start back towards San Antonio… I, once again, can barely breathe…. His beautiful face, transformed into that of a four year old child… that’s who I see momentarily behind me in the rear view mirror…. Then, as if by magic… he is transformed into the 6 foot 2 inch, nineteen year old, young man that he’s grown into… that everyone else sees…. I turn to wave one last time, as the truck turns the corner and he is lost from my sight…. And the tears stream down…
I don’t know that I’m going to make it through this one.
Filed under: bipolar disorder, depression, guilt, life, life problems, memories, mother, personal