We were on our way to my oldest son’s last basketball banquet as a high schooler. I thought for sure I was going to cry, but my eyes stayed dry, even as his coach gave him major props for stepping up and becoming the man of the house. It was awesome hearing him recognized because I know what a great kid he is, and now others do too.
Okay. Got side tracked. On our way there, I pulled into a gas station and handed Q the money to pay/pump. A little girl with glasses was crossing across the parking lot and I heard her mother saying “Go now!” “Look both ways!”, all the normal things we parents have said since they were mobile.
And as I watched this anxious mom, watch her anxious daughter, it hit me. When did I stop looking? When did I trust them enough to walk across a parking lot without panicking, without watching their every step and releasing the breath I didn’t even know I was holding.
Am I that… what’s the word I’m looking for… lax? B is 12 and should know how to cross the parking lot, but he does tend to just run and not look out. And he’s short, so I always worry about that, but I don’t watch anymore. And that scares the hell out of me.