They still need their mothers.

Right now as I am sitting in the oral surgeons office, waiting for my eighteen year old to get his wisdom teeth out, I am reminded of so many times throughout the years that I have been in the same situation. Those long days sitting in the waiting room with a sick child trying to ease his fears about a shot or some unknown which the doctor might inflict upon him, or the times he has ended up in the emergency room with appendicitis, or stitches for a foot caught on a boat prop. As a mother my fears equal his, yet I am unable to show it because it is my job to ease his fears and walk him through it, so that he might gain the skills himself for the future.

Recently, knowing that he is a young man skilled in so many areas of his life and that he is quickly heading towards independence, I have found myself torn; glad on one hand that I have done my job well and sad on the other that my job is almost done. Today however, I realized that my job may be coming to an end, but that my role of mother is far from over. For today my sons eyes still searched for mine, just as he did years ago, when fear comes into the equation. When he was unsure of what is required or requested he referred to me to make the decisions. But most importantly, as I left him to the surgeon I gently touched his head, too old now to pull him on my lap and calm his fears, and I heard him sigh with relief.

I am proud that my son is turning into such an amazing man, yet glad that my simple touch still brings him such comfort.