Friday, January 08, 2010

Stolen, but lovely

This is from one of the blogs I follow called Notes to Self. You can find the blog at This post could completely be about Scooby. It's perfect and makes me cry.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Cusp
He stands in the music section of Barnes and Noble, the twenty dollar gift card burning a hole in his pocket, indecision burning a hole in his heart. In one hand, he clutches yet another definitive field guide to Pokemon, the cartoon characters that have been his obsession since first grade. In the other, an object of recent desire, a newly remastered Beatles cd. He is ten years old for only seven more days. He is moving into the in-between place. Moving out of childhood.

One night, several weeks ago, I peeked into his bedroom, and saw the baby in his sleeping face. The glimpses of that are so rare now. I gazed from the doorway a long moment, not knowing if I would ever catch that sweet sight again.

I wonder how aware he is of where he stands poised, how much consciousness undergirds the angst he feels as he weighs the little boy's book against the young man's music. I remember being his age, holding my favorite doll and stuffed animal to my breast at night, weeping quietly with the knowledge that I was passing from their world into another, one where I wouldn't be able to hear them speak.

Sometimes I look at my own weathered, sun-spotted hand, and am amazed to think it is the very same hand that once closed around my mother's finger, and grabbed at my father's beard. It feels like we move on as we go through life, but we never leave our own skin. I wonder if my baby self ever visits my face at night.

He chooses the Beatles album, and in spite of--or through--my own poignant projections, I'm pleased. I discovered their music the summer I was eleven, and listened to nothing else until I got through junior high. It's a good map.

We get home and rip the cd to his new MP3 player. Not many "pretend" toys in his pile this year. I toss it to him over the back of the couch, and he catches it. "Thanks, Mom!" He can rest his chin on my shoulder easily. It's time for braces, and middle school, and talks that I am nowhere near ready to deliver.

He puts on the headphones, and jumps to his feet, bigger than mine. My little boy is gone, I think. Into a world where he won't hear me speak.

Then he skips across the family room like a runaway shadow, and I smile and think, not yet.


M.M. said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
M.M. said...

Oh Amy, this is so sad and true. It really is Scooby.
Give him an extra hug for me.

I deleted the first comment because of my spelling!

Carol said...

My heart spoke within me (oh, Scooby stop growing so fast) and tears came to my eyes. I can picture him in Barnes and Noble as I read the blog and could hardly stand it. Praying that God is with him always as he faces struggles as he grows. And that God be with Mommy and Daddy as they learn to "let go" little by little. Love you all!

Melissa said...

Why do people have kids again? I can't remember...

M.M. said...

Melissa, so we can have them like you . All of you have been a blessing in our lives.

Blackbird said...

People have kids because, unlike cats, eventually they stop sticking their paws up your nose to see if you're awake.

M.M. said...

Scroll down on that website to the picture of a mother and her three boys. One is David cloned!