Fear Factor

As previously mentioned, over the New Year holiday The Boy, my baby boy, hopped the train to New York City to have adventures with his theatre friends.

My persona was quite cavalier, like it was no big deal for my baby boy to head off to NYC, no chaperone, seemingly vague plans of how and when and where to meet up with his friends, a piece of floor in some tiny apartment of some unknown (to me) friend reserved for sleeping. If he ever got around to sleeping, that is. If he didn't get killed or lost or drugged or drunk or run over or arrested or stabbed or mugged or kidnapped or...

or Or Or OR OR OR!

Yeah. I'm a mother. You know how our minds work. It's not pretty.

Cavalier exterior, quivering interior. Dammit! Does a parent ever get to let go of the fear?

We dare not let it out on the surface. Oh hell no. We don't want to give our little darlings the impression they are anything less than Strong Capable Individuals. We teach them how to use their common sense, help them hone their instincts to recognize and read situations, teach them how to recognize when they need help and how to ask for it. And we give them opportunities to try out those fundamentals while they are still close enough for us to catch them when they slip. As long as I did my parenting job right, there is no need for fear.

Yeah. Oh sure. What a pompous load of crap.

I suppose I could have objected to him going but what would be the point? Truth be told, despite my fears, I wanted The Boy to take the trip. I don't want my fear to rule him that way.

He's not really a baby boy after all, he's a young man. A young-old man in some ways, although I'm not sure why. He just is. By the time Wendy and I left for the beach, he and his friends had fleshed out a reasonable plan even this mother could love. (I'll not mention the "when the hell did he become that capable?" moment I had when it all fell together. Well, I'll not mention it to him. It was a really cool moment.)

While there, he called several times to share his adventures. Excited. Exuding the positive "I'm doing something I love" energy every parent adores to hear in their child. Having a great time, handling himself just fine, doing things he both needed and wanted to do.

As for me, the internalized fear didn't extinguish completely until we saw him get off the train Sunday evening.

And I wonder why I have gray hair.