Thursday, January 26, 2012
To my Son, The Dreamer by mommy Jess
To have an opportunity to watch your child from afar feels voyeuristic and bewildering, like catching a reflection of yourself in a mirror you hadn’t expected where you spend several awkward seconds realizing that yes, that is indeed you. It is not without my heart in my throat that I watch Jack line up after school on the days I am lucky enough to pick him up from school. He manages to seem aloof and strapping to his friends but to me looks vulnerable and small. He doesn’t stand out in a group but I’ve been told he doesn’t bend to peer pressure either. Something I take pride in though I claim no ownership of.
I dropped him off late to school the other day and watched as he wandered alone into the building. He kicked his oversized snow boots against the walls of the building in a dreamy dance that had him wavering from one side of the pavement to the other. He turned his head, side to side and up and down, motions exaggerated by his stocking hat. He seemed to be taking it all in. He was in no hurry. I have no way of knowing what he was thinking about, but I had the distinct feeling he was not worrying over the agenda of his day or even thinking of what waited for him inside those doors.
My son is a dreamer. He has trouble “staying on task”, he doesn’t read the insipid books created by his school with exhilarating story lines like Things to See! I should care, but I don’t. I know that in all likelihood he will lose this trait. That instead of meandering off the school bus, pausing to inspect a hill of dirt, and then running into my waiting arms grinning ear to ear, surprised as he is exhilarated to see me he will instead walk stick straight to the back seat, embarrassed to be seen with me.
So for now, dream on Jack. Life is just biding its time, thinking up ways to squash your freewheeling fanciful fun. Don’t let it win yet.