He moseys to the kitchen…
dragged himself out of bed because the smell of breakfast wafting
through the house and plumps himself in front of the breakfast bar. He looks scruffy and ratty. He is wrapped in his soft red blanket. His eyes are half
open and incoherently he says: “mom, what’s
for breakfast?”
As I fill his plate to place it in front of him, the other one thumps around the house with elephant feet… We can hear him before we see him. Within a split second, the gentle giant walks into the kitchen with a happy hungry smirk. “Mom, what’s for breakfast, I don’t want any carbs” … “Good morning to you Sunshine. Get the oatmeal from the cupboard. That’s the best that I can do this morning.” I say.
As I fill his plate to place it in front of him, the other one thumps around the house with elephant feet… We can hear him before we see him. Within a split second, the gentle giant walks into the kitchen with a happy hungry smirk. “Mom, what’s for breakfast, I don’t want any carbs” … “Good morning to you Sunshine. Get the oatmeal from the cupboard. That’s the best that I can do this morning.” I say.
The hustle and bustle of Sunday morning breakfast is in full
swing. The dog keeps running around, hoping for a piece of food, a game of ball
which will undoubtedly not take place, and a wagging of tail that says: “I love
you, whether or not you play with me, I am just a happy dog” My husband, busy fixing the squeaking and
rattling dryer, moves in and out of the scene as the boys wolf down their food
and tell their stories from the previous night, one’s lines lovingly
interrupted by the other’s and accentuated by the sound of laughter and
sarcastic witty responses to each other’s adventures.
They are no longer boys… My toddlers, my precious little
gems of innocence with eyes of wonderment and curiosity have become young men
with chiseled cheekbones, muscular bodies and deep voices who establish their
presence way ahead of their apparition.
I am holding my cup of coffee and observing their raptured
conversation about last night’s adventures… They are in the moment, they are so
real … and their belly laughter and expressions of emotions raw and real. The heat of my cup warms up my hand and moves
up to my heart.
It has been a difficult week end of introspection, of soul
searching and self examination. The
never ending doubts and questions, the incessant analyses of my own “wheres and
whys and wheretofores” have left me drained of all energy. I have a mountain of work at the office with
looming trials and motions and a myriad of other deadlines, but I can’t
move. The sound of the kids and their
heavy-footed and boisterous no-longer-pitter-patter of their feet keeps me
riveted to the kitchen.
For the millionth time of any given day, it hits me, once
again, with the same consistent velocity and vigor, he’ll be moving away to
college. My heart, my breath, my precious
one is leaving. He is taking to the
skies. He is, as rightly he should, expanding
his wings, and exploring the universe, to explore his horizons, to find
himself, to discover his path, to walk his journey and to leave his indelible
mark on the Universe.
The impending feeling that my heart is about to be torn out
of me and my inability to stop the world from turning, forces me once again to
admit and accept my insignificance in this huge Universe, that will revolve no
matter what my resolve…
I walk over and sit at the piano… My fingers have long been
estranged from these keys who used to bring me solace and joy in my law school
years when I, too, had left the house and was expanding my wings and taking on
the horizons rebelliously, against my parents’ wishes with all the angst and
anger of a young adult determined to discover herself, her path and her
journey.
The notes shy at first, hesitant and timid… remind me of my
younger self, scared and fearful of the future but thirsty for the adventure,
play themselves on the keyboard. Oh, to
be 21 again. Oh, to be that naïve and
doe-eyed and bewildered once again. How
life batters one’s soul and fortifies the weakest parts of one’s soul… I had rebelled, I had broken barriers, I had
moved beyond the norms of all that was acceptable and understood at the time,
because “no” was not and will never be an acceptable answer to me. And how life teaches you that choices are
real and permanent.
My son joins me at the piano… and helps me with the
notes. I am having trouble with the F
sharps, not because I don’t know where they are … but because the tears are
making me blind to the sheet music… He
is leaving. He is taking to the sky, and
if I have done my job well, he’ll always know that he will have a nest to come
back to… I get up and he sits down and picks up where I left off. His gentle fingers make love to the piano and
he gracefully eases the music from this old beat up instrument. I watch him and walk away. My heart cannot endure this.
Go son… take on the sky … expand your wings. Find your horizon. Reach for the skies and take on the stars,
the moon and the sun. Glide and soar beyond
infinity… find your path, discover your journey, stay true to yourself, be
happy, be joyful and most importantly, always and forever honor thy soul….
A Professional Corporation
15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010
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Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger
alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com
15760 Ventura Blvd, Suite 1010
Encino, Ca 91436
ph: 818-986-6222
Lecturer, Radio Host, Citizen Journalist, Blogger
alalehkamran@alalehkamran.com
Los Angeles, Las Vegas
