Luca came for a home visit last weekend. He flew in from boarding school and spent Mother’s Day weekend with Franny and me.
He arrived in time for Franny’s school performance. Prince and his wife Sarah were there and I remembered what it was like two years ago, when Luca graduated from 6th grade and refused to speak to me. I sat up in the bleachers then, while Prince and his parents sat in the front row, victorious that I had been edged to the margins. Although, really, I had always been there, even during the marriage.
It was the nadir of my life.
But this day was different. Luca acknowledged Prince and Sarah, but sat next to me and my babysitter, who had picked him up from the airport. We watched Franny in her long skirt and bonnet as she shared what it was like to be a mother in the old west.
I snuck sidelong glances at Luca, who fiddled with his baseball cap and I thought, truly, this was a miracle. That only two years after the apocalypse, Luca and I would be sitting side by side, like any mother and son.
Atticus cleared out for the weekend so it could be just the three of us. Luca asked me how long it had been since he had spent the night at our house and I couldn’t remember.
I had given him a schedule of activities before he arrived so he would know what to expect, and to prevent negotiations. Initially, he balked at the computer restrictions and the fact that I wouldn’t let him run wild through the city streets with friends I hadn’t met. But he accepted the terms with a minimum of grousing.
He was nervous at first. So was I. We danced around each other slightly, skirting arguments that might be lurking. Franny was just pleased as punch to have her brother home.
We went to Chinatown.
We threw coins in the fountain. Franny’s landed in the “vacation” bowl. Mine landed in the “wealth” bowl. Luca’s missed altogether. I told him I’d share my wealth with him. He grinned.
We ate at our favorite restaurant, an airy Vietnamese place in the art district, with huge canvases hung on white walls.
We ordered Shaken Beef, like we always do.
Luca entertained us blowing his boba up and down through his straw.
The next day was Mother’s Day. We went to brunch at another airy restaurant, this one near the beach.
You can’t see me, but I was there. Franny was sitting on my lap.
This was the appetizer Luca and I ordered: a thin slice of mango nestled in radicchio, accompanied by a fat dollop of bufalo mozarella, all doused with lemon and salt. It was divine.
Franny had pancakes. Luca had crab hash. I had salmon.
This was my drink. It was a cranberry mimosa. It was ridiculously good. I gave both the kids sips. They liked it.
Afterwards we headed down to the boardwalk. We passed rollerboarders, bikers and skateboarders. We listened to musicians, watched breakdancers. We marveled at sand artists as they sculpted a mermaid.
We made our way down to the water.
I sat on a towel in the sand and watched Luca and Franny ride their boogie boards through the surf.
We made it through the entire visit without an argument. Luca did, however, argue with his dad over the phone. I felt a perverse jolt of delight and tried hard not to show it.
Franny and I dropped Luca off at the airport Monday morning. I wondered how it happened — how did it happen — that my son was suddenly fourteen, and able to walk through security and get to the gate on his own.
Franny and I watched him walk down the cordoned aisle towards security. He glanced over his shoulder three times to make sure we were still there. We waved back.
And then he was gone.
And so was the past. The years of explosions and melt-downs and head-banging and I-hate-you-you’ve-ruined-my-lifes. For now, it had washed away.
And there was just this. This life. Now.
That’s so lovely. Congratulations on such a great visit.
I had a similar humiliation three or four years ago, and a similar quiet triumph recently. Which taught me two things: (1) middle school sucks for everyone. (2) time time time is on my side. Yes it is. Xo yay for you.
Nice post! Can relate, especially to “I felt a perverse jolt of delight and tried hard not to show it.”, especially as I always tried to be positive about what I said to my kids about their dad, as their dad has constantly negated me to the kids. I don’t think it took my kids long to figure out that even though I have my faults (after all, who doesn’t have faults), their dad was weirder than I was.
LOL, Karen.
Love this post, it brought happy tears to my eyes. You are so brave.
Thank you, Rebecca!
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I am SO happy for you and your family — what a remarkable Mother’s Day, to be sure!
Such great news! So happy for you and your son.
Oh, this post makes me happy. You can just FEEL your happiness. I am glad for you.
What a wonderful piece this is! The sense of peace and full-circle, by a miracle, is so clear. I say miracle, but really I know the hard work that went into it–your present husband who put you and your kids first, your daughter who has shared this journey with you and your son, your son who is battling for his own survival, and you who have kept a steady eye on the prize of loving your children, being there for them through it all. What a fantastic Mother’s Day, such a triumph.
You are giving hope to mothers of a certain kind of child. Thank you.
Best picture of all is the last one of the two kids with their arms around each other. I’m glad you were able to experience that moment!
Thanks, Ginger. Yes, a lot of work has gone into it, that’s for sure!
So happy for you. Happy tears.
I’m so glad you had a good visit. And there is a particular sweetness in seeing our children get along.
One of my sons just returned home yesterday – from his first year at college. He’s still a teenager, stillsoyoung in so many ways (must I mention the argument over throwing a banana peel across the room???) – yet seeing him after nearly six months absence was blissful.
These are the things we can never explain to those who aren’t parents. These are the things that make it impossible to imagine a mother or fathernotdoing what’s best for the child.
Here’s wishing you more moments of “now” – and sooner, rather than later.
Beautiful. Many happy returns of the day. Thank you for sharing the love, and the history that led you to now.
That is so great that you got spend great time with your child. I’ve been going through a bad custody fight and my child custody lawyer in San Antoniorecommended that I read your blog to help me out emotionally and I really have started feeling better. It is posts like this that make me feel like there’s hope for my family’s future.
Cynthia, I’m so sorry you’re going through a custody battle, but I’m glad you found my blog and it offers you some hope. Tell your attorney thank you for me.