Today The Boy Who Made Me a Mother took his senior portraits.
I was feeling emotional about it, but managed to make it through my morning without shedding a single tear.
He decided he wanted a haircut 2 hours before his appointment. I dropped everything I was doing and ran him down to the barber shop. I sat in the chair as he told the woman what kind of cut he wanted. As he sat there, I admired him from the torn up bench in the waiting area. “What a handsome young man he’s turned out to be!” ! I thought.
I allowed my eyes to wonder around the room a bit and that is when I noticed the little boy. He couldn’t have been more than a year old. His mother sat in the chair with him and held him tightly as the barber carefully cut his hair. He was fussing and his mom was doing everything in her power to help him cooperate.
And that, my friends, is when I lost it.
I started to cry, right there in that old, dirty little barber shop.
Because I remember holding my first baby while he got his hair cut. I remember telling him it was going to be okay while his daddy jumped up and down to try to distract him from the clippers.
I remember those moments like they were yesterday. But they weren’t yesterday. They were years and years ago. And now, that boy I once held in my arms is facing adulthood in just a few short months.
Today, while that mother held her son tightly, I sat across the room, ever aware of how much it will pain her heart to release the tight grip and let that baby go.