It’s March and along with clocks going forward, Palm Sunday and the end of Lent my youngest son turns another year older.
How can it already have been twenty-eight years ago that he came into my life?
It only seems like yesterday and yet here he is cheers-ing with my favorite tipple!
Twenty-eight years ago I was bursting at the seams and utterly ready to be done with carrying my second child.
I had chosen not to to find out the sex so it wasn’t until my ob.gyn held him aloft and pronounced my newborn,
“A boy!”
That I whispered his name for the first time,
“Hello Simon!”
He loved to snuggle and during our first days together I hardly put him down.
I learned to read my book while roaming around the house with him asleep on my shoulder.
It was Spring and the daffodils were in bloom, as they are today,
their yellow trumpets facing the sun reminding me of England, parks and woodlands…
Warmer, longer days…
And a birthday up ahead!
During my twenty-eight years of mothering him I’ve learned a lot,
I know when to hold on tight and when to let go,
When to discourage and when to offer support,
When to rescue and when to allow sinking.
He doesn’t like to be rushed but is never late,
He lives in the moment and balances his days with work, prayer and play.
He is a natural Benedictine.
Although his time is no longer entwined with mine I’ll always be his mother and the keeper of his dreams.
He stands firm on what he learned at my knee and I watch silently from the sidelines as his ambitions unfold.
The little boy who once ran up to me on the playground and said,
“Mummy, that boy over there has just asked me to be his friend. Will you tell him to leave me alone?”
is the first of my clutch of four to be married.
He and his wife live in a tiny house and have co-founded a non-profit business where they take native birds,
A baby screech owl
exotics and sometimes chickens,
In from the cold…
to events at the Trinity River Audubon Centre,
and into classrooms at local schools and Early Learning Centres.
He is in the public eye where lots of people want to become acquainted with him and his,
“Awesome lifestyle.”
Simon has always been artistic and as a child carved crosses and sea creatures from chalk rock littering the base of the white cliffs of Dover.
He has built a forge where he hammers and subdues metal to make a variety of knives,
He shares his father’s love of wood and builds tables,
and chairs.
He told me once, while mulling over a math problem,
“I’ll never go to college Mum, all I want to do is work outside and be a yard man!”
He did go to Texas A&M and spent quality time at the rock wall while getting his BSc.
True to his word last year he persuaded a couple of dump trucks to bring him several loads of dirt for a garden he was planning.
It produces all year round,
I am impressed.
“Have you started your own vegetable patch?” he asked me on one of his weekly calls home.
I was able to answer yes this week and he sent me more pictures to keep me motivated,
Brussel Sprouts
I miss having him around to help me on my rather large tract of land.
Everywhere I look I see my young son ready to tear into an adventure with me…
Climbing trees,
Pulling down vines,
Clearing mud-filled culverts,
Swinging from Bois d’arc to Bois d’arc,
Harvesting broccoli and collard greens!
There is never a dull moment with Simon!
For twenty-eight years I have watched him slowly grow into a responsible young husband living his life away from home in a manner that completely reflects who he is.
What more could a mother ask?
I love you Simon, have a fun-filled, blessed day.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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