After I pulled into the driveway and came to a stop, my son reached for the door handle to get out.
"Hey, stay for a sec", I said, reaching out to him.
He had the door open and half his body out of the suburban already.
"Mom... I know what you're gonna say"
He pulled himself back entirely onto the passenger seat and reached over to hug me.
"I like spending time with you too Mom."
I held on to him. We'd just spent a few hours together, unintentionally and unplanned. Those are the best kinds of impromptu times, right?
I was planning on going to the Temple today and he had to go over to Factoria about a job he was starting. Misty weather made for wet slippery roads and since I didn't want him to take his motorcycle, I offered him a ride. I was going in the same direction anyway.
Dropping him off at the Thai place, I decided to stay there for a minute or two and talk to my bank about my poor memory regarding my pin number on my debit card. Surprise, surprise, I was put on hold forEVER. When I finally got through to an overly perky voice, I was informed that even though they knew I was who I said I was, they wouldn't be giving me my PIN over the phone. They'd mail it to me.
That wasn't helpful.
However, I stayed there in the parking lot long enough for my boy to come bounding back up to the suburban to declare that he was done and now what?
Now what indeed? I told him I wasn't going home--I was going to the Temple so I couldn't take him home just yet. He'd be welcome to wait in the car for me though. He thought that was a better choice than trying to bus it home.
Instead of sitting in the suburban, he decided to play piano at the Stake Center behind the Temple. He's teaching himself this very cool song and he's doing it quite well. I always knew he had a gift for piano but it's like so much in life--something that takes a great deal of effort and time is often pushed aside for the easier and less beneficial activities.
I was happy to see him pick up playing again. Very happy.
He doesn't know he was the focus of my Temple visit. He doesn't know my prayers were for him, my heart pouring out for him. My tears...for him. Promises have been made and I intend to work with every thing I am to be worthy to collect on those promises.
So before I let my boy out of the suburban, I held him and kissed his sweet smelling neck. When he was a baby I loved to bury my face in his soft neck, breathe in his sweet baby scent and have that ahhhhhh feeling of love and contentment wash over me.
Now pressing my face to his neck I can smell the musky scent of his body splash, the fragrant hair gel he uses. It's not that sweet baby smell anymore. It's the scent of a nearly-twenty-year-old-young-man trying to find his way.
I'm here to love, support, guide and pray for him. And to remember that the little sweet smelling baby boy I once cradled in my arms may have lost his way for a bit but I have faith he'll remember who he is and where he's going.
I'll always stand where he can see me and the light I'm holding high to help bring him home.