You're Gonna Miss This Moment

Babies become children, children become teens, teens become young adults. Eventually, they all leave home. (Well, most of them do).

When they go there may be a bed such as this.

Empty. Alone. Sad.

For five years I had the privilege of raising a boy that was not mine from birth. From 11 to 16 I was his mother. There were many Christmases, birthdays, Easters, Halloweens to be celebrated. Photographed. Remembered.

I had the privilege of sharing some of the big years in a child's life....the transition from elementary to middle school, middle school to high school. There were many "firsts": first girlfriend, first social, first middle school team, first high school team. The list is long.

We were very busy during those five years. Many hours spent in the car driving to hundreds of practices became a chance to talk. Many hours spent at the rink or the court or the track or the field watching games, cheering loudly. A chance to be proud.

I had the opportunity to expose that boy to a wide variety of things he had never tried before. Now he can say, "I've done that".

He had the opportunity to show me that being a step-mother could feel normal.

That boy became a teenager. Now that teenager is becoming a young adult. Five years have flown by. Really.

I always knew there would be a day when his bed would be left empty.

I knew the day would come when he would become that young adult, go out into the world and make his place. A day to be remembered. A day to be proud.




I did not know this day would come too soon. Before I was ready. Before he was ready.



I have stood in the empty bedroom looking out this window. It doesn't matter how long I pause. How long I wait. He's not going to come back up that driveway. He's not going to come back to the bed that has been waiting.




Somewhere along the journey things got muddled. At one time our relationship was closer than any of the other children. After five years of love and hugs and tears and laughter, his biological mother returned. (That's another story for another day).

A wedge was hammered in at a speed to fast to stop.


In a whirlwind he was gone.



One of the things I was so proud of was how he put everything he had into whatever he was doing. He worked so hard at his grades, gave everything to a relationship as a friend or boyfriend, was the best big brother to the little ones, gave his all to whatever sport he was playing.


It's always been all or nothing.

He's given his all.

He's left us with nothing.

So the bed has been empty, waiting for a change of heart.

He's chosen to make this permanent. Legal. To take it all and leave nothing.

We are no longer his guardians. He chose to sever the legal ties and give the last few years of his minor life to his mother and his grandparents.

For five years I woke up to that smiling face almost every single day. I fully gave him my love. I have a heart full of memories. Memories that cannot ever be taken away.

We may never see him. We may never talk to him. His brothers and sisters may forget him.

I'll still miss those moments.

All or nothing.

Pam brings us the "You're Gonna Miss This Moment" meme. Go and see what everyone else is missing.