- I am missing my oldest son today. Drinking my first coffee of the morning with Diva (who I was brushing) I turned on the t.v. and there was James Taylor singing “Sweet Baby James”, which is my son’s first name, not Sweet Baby, but James.
I didn’t call him James or his other more used name “Linton” but Bear because he made so many rumbling sounds, which I learned was a result of a severe milk intolerance. I was nursing and drinking gallons of milk because I figured that is what I should do. He was projectile vomiting and we were both crying alot. I gave up getting dressed as it all would end up soaked. It was July and hot as it could ever get in so we were all about the comfort and laundry. I was a milk producer, he was a milk spewer.
He changed my life. It really needed changing. I love all my kids but he was the one that broke down all my ideas and laid bare my heart. After what felt like days of not getting more than a few minutes of sleep at a time I was rocking him in the basement, it was nice and cool and suddenly I just started putting all this energy into rocking as hard as I could, that rocking chair was flying! I was almost tipping it off the slates, all my frustration and sadness and disappointment and desperation just went into that rocking and I held on to him for dear life and some how he fell asleep! When I stopped, exhausted I crawled off to bed with him in my arms and we had the most wonderful nap of our short time together.
He is often the one who lays bare my heart, maddening and thrilling son of mine. I miss him. He is on the other side of the continent going to university. I am very proud.