When Mommy's Heart Has a Home

It's the late nineteen eighties and I am fresh out of college. Mike Tyson is king of the ring and Rowdy Rod Piper is loud mouthing Hulk Hogan in full force but, that's not what I'm into, for me it's all about Thundercats.

The crime fighting felines had just aired the first half of their movie and I started my morning off ready for part two. It started at 10:00AM and I was reclined with fluffed pillow ready to watch, only to be told "it's time".

Let's fast forward ahead to a later time by three minutes, when I am handed the worlds most beautiful baby. "It's a boy", as if they needed to tell me. I knew that all ready, mother's instinct you know.

Now he's all grown up and has a home of his own. That beautiful baby boy now has rent to pay, a car to drive, and a life of his own. My first visit to his apartment was more than a heart tug.

As every parent does, I opened every cabinet and every closet. I had asked him to make a list of things that he needs. He didn't so I wanted to take a quick scan. I was surprised to see so many memories.

The coffee mugs I received as a wedding present, the end tables that I picked on a shopping trip with his grandmother, before he was even thought of, and a picture collage that chronicled his younger years. Things that I used, things that were around before he was born, things that are now apart of his home.

I open the fridge and it's fairly empty, but sitting center stage in a clear plastic container sat my mother's signature pasta salad. How dare she step foot in my child's house before I do and worst yet, how dare she give him pasta salad and not make any for me? Turns out the pasta salad arrived via carrier pigeon and she hadn't beaten me to my baby's doorstep after all.

My baby, wow, my baby is 6'3", in college, works two jobs, and has shortened my name to Ma. I remember when he was 3'6", cute as a button, way too smart for his age, and always had a smile, a hug, and a kiss for me. I still get the smile but, the hug and kiss come with a fight.

I hold him close as we walk through the mall and joke with him that his friends will think I am his new girlfriend. He chuckles and replies in his deep voice, "my friends know I am single", music to my ears. I am still adjusting to his moving into his own place no need to complicate things with a girl.

Adjusting to his move is almost as hard as trying to express the feelings of being proud of the young man my son has become or the new worries I have for him now that he's out on his own.

It's hard to let go of when he was three and he was Mommy's little man or even when he wasn't quite two and as soon as the song Happy Feet played he would begin to dance. His little feet going up and down to his own little beat.

He's even gone from being the high school graduate who's photo made front page of the local newspaper and being billed grad with the most supporters. Yea, we had signs and yelled pretty loud. My little man is a grown man. He's on his way to the rest of his life and all I can do is let him go. He is still and always will be Mommy's Heart.