Laura Bowers

Months ago, someone made a comment about my teenage main character, Abbey.  She said Abbey spends too much time thinking and worrying about her mother, who abandoned her four years ago.   Although Abbey did have her reasons, I agreed with the comment.  It’s not normal for a teenager to focus on her mother that much.  She needs to dwell on other issues, like school, boys, and friends.    

Today, my sixth grader went to outdoor school for the week.  We spent all weekend packing everything from disposable cameras to rain boots and my son was so excited.  In my mind, I pictured getting him to school early, unloading his bags and my husband and I giving those touching, goodbye-son hugs.  (Not in front of his friends, of course.)

But, like all my best laid plans, it just didn’t happen.

Instead, we threw bags in the van, drove in a frenzy to school and ran to the cafeteria to find out all the other students were already in class.  Forget the loving hugs.  There was barely time for a quick squeeze before my kid had to haul butt to his homeroom, five minutes too late.  I was beyond upset.  Completely irate at myself for getting him there late.  Dammit, I should have packed everything in the van earlier and skipped drying my hair.  I should have sent him immediately to homeroom and taken care of his bags myself.  But, I didn’t.  So for the entire morning, I worried that he got in trouble for being late, that he was upset, and started his trip on a bad note.

My husband Bob tried to make me feel better by saying I’m a great mom, I do so many wonderful things and it’s okay to let the ball drop sometimes.  Nobody’s perfect.  But even though I knew he was right, there was only one thing for me to do.

Call my mom.

Mom said the same things Bob did, but stopped.  She sighed and said, “Then again, I’d feel the same way if I were in your shoes.”  There.  I immediately felt better, knowing I wasn’t alone.  Then she said, “But honey, is it because you were late or because he’ll be gone all week?”

Well, no . . . not really.  My kids are always spending the night at friends.  We’re used to it.  But as I drove to the dentist for a cleaning, it dawned on me.  When he's at a friend's house, I can always call him but now I can't.  I have no way of knowing if he's okay, if he got in trouble or was upset.  I won’t know anything until we pick him up.  For one week, I have no control.  He’s out of my control.

Deep down, I know my son is fine.  Maybe he was scolded for being late, but chances are he went right to his friends, excited and pumped about their trip.  He’s probably now having the time of his life, laughing, getting into trouble, having a blast.  He’s not worried about his parents, like I’m worried about him.  And that’s normal.  He’s supposed to be like that . . . a growing young man who’s not spending all his time thinking about his mother.

Just like Abbey is.

This week, I'll get a small taste of what life will be like for Bob and I when our sons are grown, independent of their parents.  Maybe now I'll be able to let Abbey become her own person, that fabulous young woman I created.  Some day, I’ll have to do the same with my own children, but not quite yet.  I still have some years, and next week, we’ll have them all to ourselves when we go to Disney World.  I’ll love every minute, and maybe, when they are grown, they’ll still call Mom every now and then, like I did today.

And when the day does come when it’s just my husband and me, that won’t be too bad either.  After my dental appointment, when I was walking to my van and still feeling sad, there he was, waiting in the parking lot, to see if I was okay.  Yep, right then and there I felt okay. 

(But I still can’t wait until my baby comes home!)