I remember the first time I touched my son’s hand and looked into his face. Instant love. Wisdom captured him at one and a half year’s old. Even though I can’t remember the exact words he said on a particular day when he was one, I remember I glanced at him in my rear view mirror. His words involved God and the sun. That memory warms my heart. And at the same time, it breaks my heart because we have a fractured parent-child relationship.
The Pride
I felt I hit the jackpot with my son. He excels in intellect, art, and music. I’m in awe of his philosophical words. As a result, I’ve experienced times of dropped mouth reactions.
When he was in the first grade, his teacher complained of him imparting his wisdom onto the class. He was a six-year-old with an adult mind. So, it was no surprise when he received the gifted and talented program invite.
As a proud parent, I have a treasure trove of his report cards, notes, and drawings. He managed to keep occupied with his creativity. My son created a cartoon which featured a world with complex characters and detailed drawings.
His Evolution
His ideas grew into analogies and propositions. He became a debater and acted as a teenage educator. My son’s love of the cello prompted him to compose music. I birthed a music composer.
Despite being a mature teenager, he possessed the typical teenager attributes. He hated cleaning his room and didn’t always like what I cooked. Additionally, he didn’t agree with most of the things I said.
What is a parent to do? I took the good with the bad and thanked God he didn’t get into trouble. Some parents have worse issues than I’ve had.
Our Fractured Parent-Child Relationship
Midway through his senior year of high school, his attitude toward me was one of disrespect. He felt I no longer deserved respect as his mother. When I knocked on his door to ask a question, he yelled at me.
However, his yells held no comparison to a scathing email he sent me. In his email, he characterized me as a horrible mother. He fictionalized his childhood. After reading it, I questioned my memory.
I knew the contents of the email were untrue. But, the pain it caused brought me to tears. How could he manufacture such fiction? Better yet, why would he?
When I attempted to hold a conversation with him regarding the email, he stared at me with no emotion. I was dead to him. He didn’t care what I said. As a result, my words drifted into the atmosphere.
Hope For the Future
Of course, my son graduated from high school with honors. He moved away from home and into the world. We have limited communication. However, my love for him is stronger than ever.
In time, I hope he’ll have a change of heart. Additionally, I’d love an apology. Nevertheless, I wish him the best and hope he has a successful life.
