Monday, March 12, 2007
Good Bye Sweet Casey
Did you hear that sound last night; the horrific racket of a thousand plate glass windows shattering in unison? You didn’t? Are you sure? I swear it was so loud it could have been heard from the foamy coast of sunny Los Angeles to the towering Statue of Liberty off the eastern shore.
The sound, the one you didn’t hear but I was sure you would…was the painful disintegration of my heart. Casey left home last night. I knew it was coming and happy for him that it was. His many years of being a wanderer, a visitor, a guest in two homes would be over at last.
I don’t blame him for choosing to live with his father. He is after all, a young man and Mike’s home is far less chaotic and much more predictable than ours. He made a responsible decision based on what he thought would be best for him. I am proud of my baby and the man that he has become.
With every fiber of my being I will miss him. Casey made me a mother. Casey taught me what it means to love someone beyond reason and what its like to have your heart exist outside your body. I know that this wasn’t an easy decision for him to make. He loves me as much as I love him. I know that he feared hurting me, but this was something that had to be done. He needs to experience typical family life before he begins a family of his own someday.
So with one last handsome smile and a wave the door shut. And behind it was my son. In what was now his “home”. A place that didn’t include me and never would. I would never again live in a place that Casey would call “home”.
I didn’t go straight home after dropping him off. I drove around thinking about him. Recalling every moment from the day I first found out I was pregnant, to his gorgeous two year old locks, to the day he finally stood taller than I, then today….when I had to say goodbye. I didn’t want to return to a house that didn’t have Casey in it.
I’ll tell you what I want. I want to rock him to sleep one more time, I want to lie next to him in his race car bed until he drifts off to sleep. I want to see him wear an overgrown cowboy hat and tie a burp rag around his neck and pretend he is Superman. I want him to hold my hand tightly and whisper into my neck that no one could possibly love me as much as he does. I want to hear him sing the “Hi Ho” song from Snow White. I want him to tell me jokes and ask me what I think about things that are important to him.
I want him to ask me one more time “Mama, would you rather be a squirrel or a tree?”
I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. The pain is too great. He’s gone. Please God…let me do it over. PLEASE give me a “do over”. I promise I’ll be more patient, I’ll take the time to answer carefully. I’ll never resist helping him get to sleep. I won’t roll my eyes at the next question. I’ll read him any book he wants, as many times as he wants. I’ll make time to ride bikes with him, play with him, see a movie with him anything please…..just give me one more chance.
I know, I know. Only one chance is given, one received. There is nothing more to do than love him from the side lines and cheer on his endeavors. I love him more than life itself and because of this I must let him go.
Good bye my love. You are free to become who you were meant to be, the wonderful man I already know that you are.