January 14, 2007 @ 8:13 pm | Filed under: Family

Nineteen years ago tonight I went out and ate fish.

Before you go and begin leaving comments on what an amazing memory I must surely posses, let me clarify that it is the events that transpired right after the fish dinner that are so deeply embedded on the pathways of my mind.

I spent the next several hours blaming the poor fish for the generalized "ickiness" I was feeling. It took several more hours, a lot of lost sleep, and a phone call to my Mom at four-thirty in the morning to realize…

It wasn’t the fish at atll!

Twelve hours later -after more pain than I was aware one body could tolerate, topped off by a sudden emergency C-section – Nathan Charles made his appearance into this world.

And my life has never been the same since. Over the last nineteen years, I have cheered on many firsts: first roll-over, first toothless grin, first hesitant step, first haircut, first "boo-boo", first day of school, first grounding, first dental appointment, first report card, first childhood fight, first crush, first date, first high school graduation, first time to do the "drop-off" at college, and now…

The first time to celebrate a child’s birthday when he’s living three hours away at college. The first year that I won’t be buying a birthday cake. I won’t be bursting into his room at the crack of dawn in the morning, singing Happy Birthday whether he wants to hear it or not. I won’t be leaving his brightly-wrapped gifts at his place at the table for him to find first thing.

This year is different. Just like each of the past landmarks, this one further drives home the fact that my firstborn is now nearly grown. He has left the nest and, even though he is just away at college and is still technically "under our roof", this birthday shines the spotlight on the fact that, as much as I’d like to believe that things are the same as always, it’s clear that’s not necessarily the case. And I’m trying my best to accept that this is okay.

A few days ago, Nate and I chatted on the phone. When I asked him about his plans for the upcoming weekend, he proceeded to tell me that he and a few friends were planning to drive to the beach for the day. Under ordinary circumstances I would have been totally on board with these plans and would probably have even gone so far as to ask if he was okay on money and if not, should I transfer some to his account…

But given the weather reports that all but assured me that icy weather was in store, the thought of my "baby" on the road was a hard pill to swallow. Instead of pushing my internal, maternal CENSOR button, I instead let the ramblings of my mind spill right off my lips and across the wireless airwaves.

"Oh, son…I don’t know…This plan makes me kind of nervous…"

There was a deliberate hesitation on Nate’s end, and then a carefully chosen, yet distinctively punctuated response. "Mom, you DO realize that on Monday I will be NINETEEN, don’t you?"

I have to admit that my immediate response to that was, "Well, yeah, and what of it?" But this time I punched the CENSOR button and instead took a deep breath and regrouped. As it turned out, he and his buddies changed their plans on their own accord after hearing the weather warnings and instead drove to a mall in a nearby town to hang out for the day.

His words started me to thinking though, and some of these thoughts have left me feeling kind of strange. The truth is that when I was Nate’s age, I was eating a fish dinner that would leave me feeling ill and – just mere hours later – I became a mother.

I was nineteen.

And thought I was grown. Oh, to imagine the CENSOR buttons my own parents must have pushed time.after.time over that one! So tonight, on the eve of Nate’s nineteenth birthday, as I sit here making a mental note to apologize profusely to my parents for the worry and headaches I must have caused and feeling more than just a little nostalgic over the bittersweet passing of precious time, I’m filled with delight and joy and all the wonderful things that moms feel on their children’s birthdays.

Thank you, Nathan, for making my journey into motherhood so poignant and beautiful. You changed my life forever, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Each year I’m made more aware of the gifts with which you’ve been endowed and, each year, I see how God is further preparing you for the great life He has planned for you.

Know that your parents are proud of you. You are a source of pride, always. You are loved, always. You are my little boy all grown up, and I’m learning to be quite okay with that.

I’m thinking, though, that waking you up with a spirited rendition of Happy Birthday might still be in order. So when you hear your cell phone ringing bright and early in the morning, just know there are some CENSOR buttons that will never get pushed.

I will always sing Happy Birthday to you.