Today, he turned 17.

Another shade 

of independence.

After 17 years of driving together… we’ve arrived. 

His stop.

His start.

He gets out.

I turn over his keys.

He turns over his ignition.

He thinks Sweet Freedom!

I think bittersweet.

He looks to me and reassures, “Mom, I’ve got this.”

I look to him and reassure, “Son, I love you.”

For the first time, alone. He drives to football practice.

For the first time, alone. I did not drive him to football practice.

He is alive.

I am alone.

When he has had enough time to miss me.

For old time's sake; perhaps once around.

Today I miss him.

Tomorrow I miss us. 

Our (car) conversations...

now in rearview.

Time does not stand still.

Time is driven.

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Comment by sarah kato on October 12, 2015 at 12:14pm

This was written to a friend whose son began driving... I thought "YAY!" - you now have a little more time...  my friend replied, "I will miss him in the car with me.  It's when we got to catch up."

I had never considered this... until she had said it just like that...  

Treasure driving them around, mommas!

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