Still A Little Work to do....

I am not a huge fan of the 'launch your son into the world' era that I am currently entered into with my youngest, and senior in high school, Ben.  I remember acutely my 'not so proudest moment' as a mother when his older brother Rob, who had requested my help at the computer with 'The Common App' website ( things were obviously not going well at all, my son asking me for help on the Internet?), and I exchanged some tense words.  I  looked at him after the situation had struck my very last nerve, and matter-of-factly stated, "You know, I wasn't even sure I wanted to have children, so you are on your own." and left the room.  Before I stood up, Rob turned to me with surprise and disbelief and replied, "You can't say that to me, Mom" as if I had broken all rules of fair conduct. And shamefully,  I had.

Anyway,  back to Ben. He is one of those guys where in grade school we, as parents, shook our heads in bewilderment at conferences and said,  "We want to be just like him, when we grow up."  Seriously, an all-around stellar guy.  And I could not be more proud of him in all aspects of his life. One especially is his natural tendency to be a good friend. 'Empathetic, caring and kind' are words that describe Ben.  Jump forward to the launching process and this is where things get a little sticky.  I feel like I have a few short months to teach him so many important, big and little, random things  ( like stepping back for people to exit an elevator, or when and if you choose to drink, make sure it is not a punch made with grain alcohol).  I liken it to the fabulous songwriter Ellis Paul who while travelling through O'Hare, learned from  his wife that they were pregnant. He sat down and wrote the song " Nine Months to Fix The World".  There is a sense of urgency to this.  Here's how my son Rob reacted to his experiencing my ultra attention, "You know Mom, not everything is a life lesson".  I beg to differ.   I experienced one such opportunity with Ben yesterday morning.

[A little aside...my friend Jeanne whom you've met in my book, asked both my boys if they would be there for her as she grows old since not having her own children, she is 'another mother' to mine.  They both solemnly assured her, 'yes, yes'.  I think she also mentioned something about knowing how to craft a Perfect Manhattan and being able to deliver it extremely well chilled....]

Earlier this week I developed a glitch under my shoulder blade that was painful and irksome.  Yesterday morning Ben entered our room (6:30 AM) to discuss what tie he should wear for his Rotary Student of the Week honorary lunch.  I turned quickly to get up and set that little glitch into full nerve overdrive where it slammed me on my back and when I tried to raise my head I couldn't even breathe through the pain.  As I lay writhing and panting on my bed , Ben stood looking at himself in the mirror.  Without turning around, he looked in the mirror behind him and said,  "Are you OK, Mom?" I answered with a big Noooo groan and then he said "Do you need to go the hospital" and even though I felt like the exorcist contorting  to find relief, I gasped out ,"No." and then he said "Which one, yellow or red?".  "Oh, red ,Honey," I mustered, after which he left the room.  Next, as I tried to find comfort in the 'Child Pose' with my face buried in the blankets and crouched back on my heels, I could feel Ben reenter my room.  "Hey Mom, which shoes, boat or dress?" and I replied as I lifted my, by then, perspiration drenched face, "Oh the dress, sweetie" and thought to myself as I put my head back down, "What the hell is going on here???".  Where did the empathy chip go?  Where was my compassionate Ben?  I thought I had covered this ground the time I was sick in bed when my guys were young and my husband was immersed in our new small business tunnel and no one fed or watered me for five straight days.   Life lesson: take care of the fallen in front of you. Even if they are that invisible person you know as Mom.  Life lesson:  lay your hand on someone in pain, a nice gentle pat just to show you care.  And now somehow I have to break it to Jeanne not to age any time soon, we have a little work to do.