Growing Up

It was raining that day, I remember.

One tends to notice cooler days because when you live in a tropical island, they are few and far between. There might have been thunder, and the memory of the incandescent bulbs filling in the dark gaps not reached by the cloudy skies is vivid.

I was responding to a statement my mom had made, I said, "I'm never going to leave you, even when I get older." Or some variation of that. It was a confession of affection in a household that didn't say, "I love you" or offered hugs. It was made by a boy who was young, had no other major contact with the outside world, and who never thought much about the future.

My kids are young, much younger even than I was in that story, and their spirit of independence is strong. Zoe has told us that she'll let us visit her house when she grows up. Alex has mentioned to both of us that he wasn't afraid of us.

As much as I want them to be more independent on stressful days, I do dread the day whereby they will be convinced that not only do they not need me anymore - but also that I will no longer be useful in their lives. That I'm the thing that's holding them back, cramping their style and limiting their potential.

That's far away, and there's a lot I can do between now and then. Meanwhile i'll just have to figure out how to convince my Mom that we're never going to leave her, even when she grows up.