Drew and I drove to Sudbury today…just the two of us and a car load of stuff. It was refreshing to get away from Boo for a while because my allergy-puffed eyes desperately needed the break.
Drew and I took turns driving and we talked about university graduation, family, our opinions on gay marriage, working out, law school, living in Sudbury for the summer, scholastic evaluations, his friends, my friends…and the miles quickly melted behind us. There is something about driving in the car together that lends itself to great talk time. I suppose it has something to do with the fact that we were both looking forward and there wasn’t that intense face-to-face interaction. Whatever the reason, I really enjoyed the alone time with my twenty-two year old son.
Drew is all grown up and what he wants most from me is that I trust and respect him. I do – perhaps I don’t communicate this to him often enough – but I am very proud of him. He is a wonderful young man with a great sense of humor, a kind heart and an endlessly bright future ahead of him but as I sat quietly in the passenger seat today and watched him, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to the days of a little blond-haired, Cowboy-and-Indian-playing, baseball-loving, Superman-pretending and consequently cast-wearing little “Drew Magoo.” It’s just where a mother’s mind goes, right? When this beautiful bouncing boy was born twenty two years ago, I stayed up all night, staring at him. I was in awe. I still am.
I’m so thankful that God gave me Drew.