Looking up from my desk as the door buzzer buzzed, I saw the face of my son standing at the door asking an entrance to the jewelry store where I work. He didn't look threatened, he didn't look afraid, he just looked like he wanted to come in and say hello. Plopping down in the leather chair in front of the counter, he looked as if he had a lifetime of thoughts to express and I was honored that he had chosen to visit me that day. Though unexpected, I was happy to see him too. He came to see me, and he had walked the whole way from our home to the post office, stopping in on the way back home because, well , because he wanted to say hello. I sensed something more written on his expression but it was one of those defining times when a boy just keeps his feelings to himself.
Right in the middle of lunch, I decided to offer him part of my pretzel roll from our local grocery store, hoping he wouldn't say yes. I gave him half, but he declined the butter. Wondering if I could invite him to join me behind the counter I thought better of it and he just stood there eating his roll. I decided to ask him how his day was going. " Pretty good, Mom" but still with that little bit of wistfulness, that unexpressed thought showing in his eyes but not allowing all of the thoughts of that 15 minute walk on a busy road to come tumbling out.
Wondering why he was, by distance so far from home, instead of enjoying the day with his Dad and sisters, he said he thought he would just like to mail his fly fisherman stuff at the post office. Braving the traffic light at the corner , crossing a 4 lane road, walking past the local massage parlor , and then continuing down a partly busy road just concerned me a little since he knew he could have placed the envelope in the mailbox in front of our house and raised the flag for his mail to be picked up for delivery.
Apron strings? Maybe. More likely is the dilemma I face daily in permissions. Weighing real concerns with the knowledge that this boy needs to grow, to be confident in his own ability to accomplish something as ordinary as a walk to a post office almost a mile away.
Hard part for me? He didn't ask me first, I wasn't available for him to ask me first, and all of a sudden there he was. Farther away from home than I expected, but safe and happy to say hello to me, his Mom. Relaxing in the assurance that surely the other responsible adults at home knew of his whereabouts just made me feel comfortable, confident, even safe. It wasn't until I came home from work and a quick shopping trip to a local discount warehouse that I discovered no one knew he had decided to take that walk all by himself, alone. Usually we practice the buddy system-- which is another thing for me-- what kind of wimpy Mom am I, not wanting my kid to walk alone in this big , sometimes bad , world?!
