son – Clara Hsu

The first impressions of my son and daughter when they were born are imprints that will stay with me forever. Babies represent new hopes, a better me, a second and third chance to get things right. It takes years to undo that kind of thinking. I have come to understand that as soon as the umbilical cord is cut, the child is a separate being.

Sometimes when I look at my children (now 24 and 26 and much taller than me) I still see two helpless crying infants. It seems Mother Duck is following the ducklings instead of the other way around. Learning to let go and turn the gaze back on myself, I have to remind my father to do the same. His 55-year old daughter doesn’t want to tell him about all her coming and going. Parental love from a distance is good love.

My son calls me in the middle of the day and nearly gives me a heart attack. “What happened?” are my first words as I panic. He never calls unless he needs something, like money, or he is in trouble. “Nothing.” is his reply, laughing, knowing exactly what I am thinking.

“Don’t do this to me.” I chide him. “This is too scary.” And then I think to myself, how incredibly odd for a mother to tell her son not to call!

I realize I have been conditioned by my son. He is in fact holding the puppet strings on his fingers and controlling my emotion. But maybe today is a new beginning, that I shall notice not all calls are trouble calls, that life is turning out for this young man, and when he thinks of his mother, he gives her a call.

Tag: son

Imprints

When My Son Calls