As I type this, I have mixed emotions. I am in awe that it’s been eighteen LONG years since my youngest, my Snickerdoodle, my Noah Mekhi came into this crazy world. I am also saddened that in just a few short months, my nest will be empty. My baby boy will be leaving me to figure out this crazy world for himself…to find a life of his own. Today he is eighteen years old. In my eyes, he is far too young to experience the blows that life can and will bring. In my eyes, HE IS NOT READY; yet, to the world, HE IS A MAN.
It saddens me that many think that the age of eighteen is old enough to leave home, experience the difficulties of life, be on your own, pay bills, etc. and be expected to land on your feet successfully. I believe that it is a set up for failure. Yes, I am confident that each of my children have been prepared their entire upbringing to be self-sufficient…to understand the meaning and importance of hard work (even the self-entitled princess Mackenzie). They have all received valuable educations, been taught the importance of respect and family, shown love, been brought up with a strong Catholic, Christian upbringing, while being shown the importance of prayer, having faith and a personal relationship with God, and truly knowing who He is. Most importantly, they were taught morals and values that in my opinion, every decent human being should know. Even with this being the case, I don’t believe that any child, not even mine, at the age of eighteen, fresh out of high school, is ready to be on their own. Just look around…plenty of fully grown adults are barely surviving.
Suddenly I awaken on this 16th day of April 2022, and he is eighteen. To the world he is a man…he’s legal…he is responsible for himself…he can sign a contract…if he gets into trouble, it’s prison not a juvenile facility…that’s all it is for me. These things do not make a man!… they do not make an eighteen-year-old ready to take on the world, especially in this day and time.
For three years I have been in agony watching my baby boy suddenly become a man. After his dad simply walked out, my fourteen-year-old son was left to be the man of the house. He was robbed of his teenage years. This wasn’t because of the death of his father; it was because of his father’s selfishness and abandonment. Noah watching me wallow in the darkness of depression and suffer from the effects of my anxiety weighed heavily on him, and I sank deeper as I felt helpless to be able to do anything to change his situation. Our marital breakdown became our children’s trauma and gradually became my baby boy’s mental breakdown.
Now, as my baby prepares to leave for college, I am afraid. I wonder if he is ready. I want to give him those three-and-a-half years back. Although I am confident that he is self-sufficient, I question what I could have done better. I wonder what I missed along the way because he was being the MAN OF THE HOUSE instead of the little boy and teenager he should have been. His father has expressed THIS IS A PART OF LIFE, THIS IS WHAT WE RAISED HIM FOR...I beg to differ. Should our children be ready to step up and know what to do if tragedy strikes? ABSOLUTELY. However, filling the role of a parent who wants to bail is not tragedy, it is TRAUMA. I am anxious that my son’s trauma will prevent him from being all he can be. Now that I am in my healing process, I want to hold on to him a little while longer. I want to care for him the way I couldn’t during my consecutive weeks and months of being in bed. I want to hang out and have our mommy/son time and attend all of the baseball games that I missed because I was repeatedly in the hospital or too anxious to be around former acquaintances since the separation. I just want to rewind time so that I can remember him when he was just my Snickerdoodle…my BABY BOY, so I can watch him grow into my Snickerdoodle…my YOUNG MAN.
When I see the biceps, the mustache, the beard, his height, hear the deepness of his voice…when I see the changes he’s made in school, his grades, the sixteen out of twenty college acceptances, how he has matured as a baseball player, when I observe his work ethics, when I watch how he cares for women…It makes me feel as if I were in a deep sleep…fell asleep to a boy, and awakened to a young man. Tears flow as I realize how much I have missed…how much of my life this TRAUMA has stolen from me…from my babies…from my Snickerdoodle. I do know, however, that the cycle ends here. My baby boy…my young man…my Snickerdoodle, will thrive. I will do all I can to ensure that he suffers no more from the trauma he has already endured.
All children deserve happiness. It is up to us as parents to do all we can to ensure that they receive it. I’m not referring to THINGS. I’m referring to emotional happiness and peace…A healthy mind…ensuring that children can be children and teens can enjoy their teenage years. The first step is breaking the cycle. If we fix us and our issues, it is less likely that our children will repeat our mistakes or go through our traumas. Seeking therapy for my children to address the trauma of our abandonment and how my suicide attempt and anxiety attacks affected them, is key to their healing. It is a major factor in how they will interact in their romantic relationships, their spirituality, their mental health, the types of parents they will become and how we will heal as a family unit.
You see, there is so much that goes into our make-up…our development…who we are. There can be one incident or many that affect how we end up, but therapy is key. I waited a long time for mine. Luckily, it’s never too late. These next few months that God gives me, I will spend celebrating, enjoying, experiencing, reminiscing, and loving on my Snickerdoodle every chance I get. I will do all I can to check and re-check that he is ready to be on his own, because no matter what the world says, eighteen is just a number. The world may say that he is a man, but he will forever be my baby…my little boy…my Snickerdoodle.
Happy Birthday Noah Mekhi!!! May God continue to watch over you when I cannot. I pray that He continues to order your steps in the direction of greatness. May He continue to prepare you for the blessings that are to come, and may He allow your traumas to be your triumphs. Thank you, Snickerdoodle for helping to save my life these past three and a half years. You have truly been my Sonshine. The bond we have will stay with me forever. You truly gave me reason to keep living. I LOVE YOU!!!!
Love,
Mommy
Dying to be Perfect 