This is my son who hates having his photo taken so I had to catch him unawares and now his hands look huge. When his hands were little he would hold mine as I walked him to nursery, crossed him over the road or walked him along the street. I don’t know when he stopped holding my hand, but I’m guessing like most kids it was around age six.
Their hand slips out of yours and all of a sudden it’s the last time and they don’t need to hold your hand any more. Today we flew down to Edinburgh for his college interviews. It was windy and a bumpy flight. I’m a nervous flier at times like this. I held onto the seat in front, closed my eyes and did my ‘it’s ok we won’t die on the plane breathing’ then I felt a hand grab mine and my now adult son held my hand and told me it was ok. He talked all about flying and how safe we were and how planes are designed to stay in the air and explained all the mechanics of it. He thought I had tears in my eyes because I was scared of flying, but really I had tears in my eyes because he’s preparing to leave home, and he’s demonstrating that clearly he’s going to be fine, but mostly I had tears in my eyes because for the first time since he was six years old he held his mother’s hand again. #son
#mothersontime #lovemyson #life #emptynest