One thing I have been doing and I’m still firm with is, that from the moment I knew I was pregnant with Vincent, I have been telling him that he shall be whoever he wants to be, and travel to wherever he wants to go to. And he did.
Never ever in an expecting mother’s heart has she wished he unborn baby be someone who stayed only in children’s intensive care but never home, never ever it would cross a nesting parent’s mind that her son go from birth straight to death. In that humble yet somewhat dreamy picture I had in my head for my son, I’d support him to be whoever he wants to be-in day-to-day parenting translation, meaning it’s not ideal but I’d be ok if he is a cranky colicky baby who keeps me up all night, I’d be happy if he decides math is for nerds and all he wants for his life is playing guitar and surfing, and lives off us; in my head, which probably involves the vision of a soul so long asleep in this cocoon, him traveling to wherever he likes means I’d be pulling my hairs out if he climbs Mount Everest or dives hundreds of meters deep to be alone with his soul, but I’d be thrilled to know that my son follows his dreams.
That was the unconditional love I thought I was able to give my son, that was my definition of being there for my child.
Yet he did become whoever he wanted to be, and went to wherever he needs to be. It is tearing me apart everyday to deal with the acute, vivid and deepest sorrow of being deprived of the basic rights of a mother, it pains me not being able to hold him, look into his eyes, or smell his hair anymore, but who says it has to be this limited thus this conditional? It is far more dreadful to limit our imagination with time and space, and it is way more tragic to cage our expectations with what is perceived acceptable and appropriate, social and secure. Togetherness is not the illusion of what one has lost, although it is so hard to sit still and be at peace with that settlement for now, in this disturbed mind. Togetherness is, I guess and I wonder, being in practice and awake, and being content with what one has been given.
Hold the pen. Perhaps I’m never the one who gets to make the title of this post my statement or declare it my belief, perhaps the reality is, my kids, every single one of them, chose to become my kid, to live through relationships with me as intimate as it can humanly get, they settled with me despite who I am, or where I wanna be, they are the real awake conscious, blessing me with infinite resources of unconditional love, and they are the gentle hearts inspiring me to realize the possibility of unconditional love from within. They took my hand, and continue waking me up with wondrous enlightenment, gently but powerfully guiding me to understandings of unconditional love which have been long ignored or looked over.
Some love because, they love despite. Despite whoever we are, despite wherever we wanna be. Treasure them, because the moment you are chosen to become a parent, you are surrounded with unconditional love and light. Whoever they are, wherever they are.