Monday was one of those days. When I realized, quite stark and simply, that time was running out. My son, well, he turned the magical age of 10. Double digits. I realized that the future held less time with him than more...within the walls of living in our home. It made me sad deep down in that place where you hide all your emotions that you never really share with anyone. The place where you fear something happening to one of your kids. The place where you sacrifice everything to be a better mom, or dad. That place that you go when you try and think of how you can teach your kids the best ways to defend themselves in this ever changing world. That was the place my mind wandered too, and I just got sad.
The most pure form of love is from a parent to a child. In this case, a mother to her child. There was cake, there was presents, there was food. There was also a pit in my stomach. Just 9 more birthdays and he will be on his way. Maybe by then I will be ready. I won't fear. I will be proud of everything I have taught him. Maybe by then, he will be ready too.