A Kiss Goodnight
Published Jan. 29, 2006
Last night as I was saying good night to my sons, my twelve year-old pulled me onto the
lower bunk, scooched over and said, “Lie down and snuggle with me, Mom.” I put my head
down on the pillow, keeping my feet on the floor and massaged his back.
“Not like that. Come on. Feet all the way on the bed, like you’re not trying to get away,” he
said with a smile. “You always run off to finish the dishes or do laundry.”
“That would be your laundry, mister,” I reminded him.
“Just stay here,” he repeated.
So I lay on the bed, snuggled up against my son while he talked. I tried to move once to
scratch my nose and he grabbed me tighter.
Finally in the quiet of the almost darkened room I said, “Promise me something.”
“OK,” he said happily.
“Promise me when you’re sixteen and can’t stand me anymore, you’ll remember this.”
“What do you mean, when I can’t stand you anymore?” He sounded so earnest.
“Oh, it’ll happen,” I said, in a teasing voice. “You can’t imagine it right now but in a few
years you’re going to think I know absolutely nothing.”
“What are you talking about, Mom?” My ten year-old piped up as he threw his head over
the side of the top bunk, peering down on us. I looked at his upside-down face and stroked his
cheek. “You’re the best mom in the world. I would never think you didn’t know anything!”
“Can I write that down?” I asked.
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” my oldest said, “I’ll still be able to stand ya.”
“Can I write that down, too?” He hugged me a little tighter.
Our job as parents is to usher our children into adulthood. But here’s the rub: In order to
do that we have to let go of the precious little moments like these. I know there will come a day
when there are no more wet towels to pick up off the floor, no more science projects growing
on the kitchen counter, no more running through the house, doors slamming, or lacrosse balls
being bounced off the walls. Somehow it makes this particular snuggle all the sweeter. There’s
always the possibility for closeness with my grown children and a good relationship is
something I both hope for and expect as they mature. But come on…how many of you still
snuggle with your mom? (Made you cringe, didn’t I?) The reality that they are growing up
before my very eyes hit me last night. Hard.
“Hey, Mom,” my oldest said as I finally eased myself off the bunk, making a mental note
that it was time to look for a more grown-up bed.
“Hmm?”
“I love you,” he said.
I paused in the doorway looking at my two sons snuggled under their blankets and smiling
at their mom. From the top bunk, a voice said, “And you can write that down.”