To My Big Boys,

Thankfully I was wearing my sunglasses and big cowgirl sun hat when it happened.

You were far enough away, you wouldn’t have noticed anyway. I was smiling the best I could and giving you the thumbs up each time you looked to me, to check that I had witnessed the massive wave you just rode.

Yep, I saw it. In between my gulping sobs, I saw it. The massive wave, that I was scared of as I stood on the sand, I saw you catch it and ride it.

I was so proud of you and excited for you, so even I was surprised by the tears that were flowing underneath my sunglasses.

Oh my big boys. Lovers of adventure and adrenaline, anything fast and furious. How does nothing frighten you?

It’s in moments like the one on the beach this week, that I realise I hold my own fears, plus yours, on my shoulders and sometimes I think it gets all too much for this mother’s heart.

Just yesterday you were walking beside me, holding my hand and squealing when you saw a shell. Well, it feels like yesterday to me. How did we get here so quick?

Wanting to get to the back of the big waves, all by yourself? Wanting to kayak, all by yourself. You know when I couldn’t see you anymore from the shore, and you were on the other side of the island, I almost couldn’t breathe. This is what it’s going to be like from here on in, I kept telling myself.

Adrenaline, freedom, excitement, adventure, risk, faster, deeper, further…..that’s what you want. I know, you keep telling me. I know you feel ready, but I am not.

Be patient with me, my boys.

You see, we’re different. I have never loved or needed adventure or adrenaline. Safe and secure has always been my chosen place to be. I am happy there. The little girl you never knew, she didn’t do fast, or adventure, or adrenaline. She avoided it at all costs. Her fears were big and she was little. Sitting still was an option. Watching was an option. I didn’t like the feeling of being out of control or adrenaline pumping through my veins. I still don’t.

But you boys, God has given you to me and I am so very thankful. You have opened up a new world to me that I didn’t know existed. I love your love of life and you are teaching me so much. How to live in the moment, how to move and enjoy it, how to fit so much in one day and to experience the world around me from participating, not just watching.

But, even after all that, I am still me. That little girl, who gets scared, but now, not just for myself, but for you boys, flesh of my own flesh.

It’s hard to explain to you how a mother’s heart works. I don’t even know myself sometimes. But I do know, it’s different to fathers. Oh your Dad loves you more than life itself, and he would do anything for you, but his love feels stronger sometimes, like it could carry you for miles. I watch him watching you and he is filled with pride and wonder at you, all at the same time.

So am I, don’t get me wrong. But there is something in my heart that wants to protect you and keep you safe and keep you just a bit closer, for a bit longer. I want to cheer you on and release you to be who you are, and keep you my little boy, for like, forever, all at the same time.

But I can’t. I know that.

So, be patient with me. I will get there. I can’t say I’ll catch up, because I think you’ve already passed me in some stuff.

I know we’re different and that’s okay. I can see glimpses of who you are becoming and I will champion you and cheer for you and help guide you as best I can.

The good thing about my soft heart that so easily breaks, is that it’s a guarantee that I will always be there.

I may be running behind you, breathless, but I will always be there, my boys.

Always.