“Dad, was I that small when I was a baby?” said Thulani gesturing toward a woman carrying a new-born baby.
“Probably, maybe smaller.”
“You were really brave, Dad.”
You were really brave, dad from my teenage son hit me hard, hit me beautifully over my heart and they remain among the most fabulous five words ever strung together and volleyed in my direction. You were really brave, dad from my son was jet-fuel, vitamins, caffeine, and glory, all entering my being, the moment the thought took to leave his beautiful brain and enter mine.
He saw it. He got it. He understood.
In that moment the boy became a man. Five words directed at me and I knew the boy had become a man. Here he was demonstrating the capacity to reflect upon his own life and measure something of its impact on those around him and affirm something he saw in me that was and is intricately connected to his well-being and to his life. Here he was at 14 or 15 expressing insights some are never afforded, an appreciation of the impact their lives have on others.
And I floated for a few days and felt seen and thanked and acknowledged and complete and I access the memory when I need a little encouragement.
Others have called me brave and complimented me on our family’s journey, but this was not the observation of a friend or a stranger.
This was my son. He was seeing something about himself. He saw something about me. He saw something about family and courage and togetherness all in that moment a woman walked by carrying a new-born baby.
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