Tag Archives: sons

Constant

Source: craized.com

Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother.

A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that suppose to mean? In my heart it don’t mean a thing.”

~Toni Morrison, Beloved, 1987

Shell

shell.

“Is the turtle dead?” I ask, again.

Initially I relied on Lucas for vital stats on our sometimes dead-looking new pet. Now I just ask to bother him a bit — and let him feel smarter than me.

No, Mom,” my fourteen-year-old rolls his eyes, exasperated and a little amused,  “and he wasn’t dead the last time you asked.”

I smile, relieved.

Turns out, it’s hard to tell if a heart is still functioning when somebody is wearing a hard enough shell.

Maybe that’s true for people, too.

______________________________

Photo: Emlynn Photography

Shell

shell.

“Is the turtle dead?” I ask, again.

Initially I relied on Lucas for stats on our sometimes dead-looking new pet. Now I just ask to bother him a bit, and let him feel smarter than me.

No, Mom,” my thirteen year old rolls his eyes, exasperated and a little amused,“and he wasn’t dead the last time you asked.”  I smile, relieved.

Turns out, isolating self-protection and inner-deadness are tricky to differentiate when something is wearing a hard enough shell. 

.

Photo: Emlynn Photography

Owl

Rose
Isaac at Breakfast

We sit opposite ends of the family table, mother and son. His head slides like an owl — face always forward, gliding left to center, right to center.

Move and stop. Move and stop.

I puzzle at the movement, confused, then smile at his visual joke.

Ah, his head frames the rose.