My wonderful son

Have I mentioned how I adore my son?  No?  Well, that's not good, because I do.  He's my best friend and he has this way of just getting right to the point.

This evening, every picture I have of him fell off the wall in Library II, in a tremendous crash.  I believe in omens.  I emailed him but heard nothing in ten seconds, so I called him.  He is well.  He is fine.  He is funny.  He is bright.  And he is mine.  He is my wonderful son.

I am so proud of the man he became.  And that knack for getting right to the point?  Yeah, sweet son.  I said, you know you could call and email more often.  And he said, yeah, I could.  So could you.

Long ago, I was offered a drug that they said might slow my MS.  I had to think about it because one of the side effects is a couple days of flu symptoms.  I mentioned to my son that I really didn't want to take this drug and ruin my every weekend with it, since I surely would not take the shot on a weekend night and miss work every week.  He listened patiently and then he said, let me understand.  You'd rather be blind and in a wheelchair than have the flu every weekend?

When he was in first grade he asked me why I didn't wear a seatbelt.  I gave him the usual reasons, but I think my biggest one was that they wrinkled my clothes.  Anxiously as only a six year old can be, he said, "But Mommy, if you have a car accident and you die, who will love me then?"

I just wanted to take this early morning moment to say that my son is a wonderful human being and I am proud of the man who came from the boy I raised.