|In the Waiting Room — Transitions|
|Friday, October 04, 2013 12:00 AM|
I gave away my son’s little boy bed last month. I remember when I bought it about seven years ago. My son was so excited. It was a loft bed with a slide and a clubhouse underneath. A little boy’s dream bed.
He has had so many adventures in that room hiding in the clubhouse, escaping from dinosaurs down the slide and leaping off the bed in full superhero flight. It has never been just a place to sleep, it was a place where a little boy’s fantasies could take flight.
Over the years, the swords and capes have been discarded and I no longer find action heroes and plastic dinosaurs scattered on the floor.
It really came as no surprise to me when he told me he wanted a new bed. I knew it was coming. While he still fit in the bed physically, it was clear that he had outgrown the bed emotionally. In fact, I had already been looking for another bed that would be more suitable for a teenage boy.
I was unprepared how hard it would be for me to give away, however. I wasn’t just saying good-bye to a bed, I was saying good-bye to a little boy. In many ways it is so much more than a piece of furniture, it was a time machine. I tucked a bright-eyed preschooler in bed one night and overnight, it seems, he woke up a hulking teenager.
We get so involved with moving through our lives sometimes we don’t really see that it’s passing us by. We don’t really realize what we have lost until it is already gone. Time has a way of getting away from us sometimes. No matter how hard we try to hold onto the present, it just keeps slipping away from us. We are left with the choice of clinging to the past or moving forward to embrace our future.
So, I changed his room and gave away or boxed up all his toys. I said good-bye to a little boy. His room is more grown-up now, more fitting of a young man.
My present is currently filled with sports practices, the smell of Axe cologne and piles of smelly laundry. Instead of the roars of a dinosaur, I hear the pings of text message alerts. I can tell when he is home by the piles of empty food wrappers that are scattered through the house.
I will enjoy my current present even as I complain about the wet bath towels scattered all over the house. (Seriously, is it really necessary to use every towel in the house every time you take a shower?)
I understand that someday I will have a full linen closet and an empty laundry bin. I will miss the smell of Axe cologne (but not the smell of sweaty hockey equipment) and miss watching him play sports.
No, he is no longer the little boy who used to cuddle in my lap while I read him a story but I will always have those memories. Now, it is time to make new memories with a strong young man with a good sense of humor and way too many clothes on his bedroom floor.
Dr. Celeste Lopez graduated cum laude from The University of Utah College of Medicine. She completed her Pediatric residency training at the Children’s Hospital of Michigan. She is certified with The American Board of Pediatrics since 1992. In 2003 she moved her practice, Wishing Well Pediatrics, to Delphos and is located at 154 W. Third Street. She is the proud mother of a 13-year-old son.
|Last Updated on Thursday, October 03, 2013 11:45 PM|