I served as escort for my son’s oral surgery last week. He is 29.
As I sat in the lobby, I had to restrain the urge to go back with him to the operating room.
He was nervous, I could sense it.
My maternal, nurturing instinct was kicking in; I figured I could hold his hand until he was sedated.
I didn’t. But I surely wanted to.
He is a grown man, a young adult. But he is still my baby, my youngest.
It made me think of how that never changes. Being a mother, a parent, is a job that never really ends.
I’m not sure I thought much of that when starting a family. I wonder how many young men and women do ?
I understand my 86 year old mother- in -law, as she advises her son to not make the drive if there is snow in the forecast.
It’s just part of the job.