A Child Only To His Parents

What a thing to have a child teetering on his twenties. And, really, Eric is only a child in the familial sense. His bones no longer aching to grow, his face long cleared of the acne of adolescence, his mind far more settled than my own was at his age, Eric is more "man" than "child" these days. And for all the days to follow.

It is very easy to love Eric Carlson Holt. And not just because I am his mother.

Throughout his life, his radar has carved out a space for others. I have always been wooed by his anchoring questions: How are you, mom? How was your day? Even as a young boy, he'd occasionally remember to ask me these things. And, each time, I felt bathed in his attentiveness, warmed by his ability to bounce back the questions that a parent is expected to ask.

Unlike his mother, who can be prone to attention-getting antics and whose voice has been known to pierce the very atoms in the air, Eric has never felt the need to turn the spotlight on himself. As such, he'll never take up karaoke, I suppose.

Ah, but it's to be expected that a mother faces occasional heartache. . . .

I love that Eric is neither Mark nor me. Not a blending so much as an emerging, like a butterfly emerging from the chrysalis, wet with possibility.

He is earnest, honest, kind, courageous. He is a very good friend to others. And his heart is good, through and through.

Long ago, I gave up trying to identify the tenuous strings that extend from me into my children, that strange, ego-driven desire to see me in them. Or maybe I've just quit expecting to locate that evidence.

And I must say that it is a pleasurable thing to simply enjoy the presence of another human being, one whose essence may be sprinkled with mine, but who has managed to dry his wings and fly despite that.

Like the butterflies I've been enjoying these days in our tired, diligent garden, I find hope in my offspring, knowing that they wake each day with a sense of who they are in this world and the ability to carve out a path for themselves.

I am a blessed bystander, whispering my well wishes into the breeze, my heart swelling with love.