mind·ful·ness ˈmīn(d)f(ə)lnəs/ noun 1. the quality or state of being conscious or aware of something. "their mindfulness of the wider cinematic tradition" 2. a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations, used as a therapeutic technique.
The boy is home for the summer. Well, part of the summer at least. He’s here ten more days – days that will go by much too quickly. The decision for him to move out of state with his father was heart-wrenching, but undoubtedly the best choice for him as a whole. He’s thriving there and is receiving the proper interventions for his attention deficit issues and that is a weight lifted. But it still pains me when he’s away. He’s literally part of me. Obviously because of the distance and partly because he doesn’t get a chance to be a boy up there. Here, he gets to play air-soft with his brothers and shoot shit with a BB gun. He carries a lifetime hunting license, and has spent most of his time here this summer shirt-less. Gosh, this sounds very red-neck-y, doesn’t it? Not that there’s anything wrong with that!
I’ve tried my best to remain present with him; be mindful and enjoy him and not count days and not miss him before he’s actually gone. I struggle with that. I struggle with that very, very much, actually. I don’t want to sabotage our time together, believe me, but I’m his mother. I can’t help but feel like I didn’t get enough time with him before he left. He was 12. I should be used to this; I always said that when he learned to walk, he walked away from me. It’s never been fair.
We spent time at the beach as a family recently. He and I went back to the ocean late evening so he could boogie board while there were still good waves out there. As I sat in the sand, I looked at him. Really noticed him. His gorgeous hair. His height. His lean body. How happy he looked in the water. His beautiful smile and how his eyes scrunch up when he does it, as they always have. My heart both swelled with love and broke with sadness at the same time. Funny how love can do that. I suppose that’s what mindfulness is supposed to do – give you all the feels. I could do without the sadness, but being mindful allowed me to really see him. I hate to know that he’ll leave soon and that it will be months before we’ll be together again, but for now, he’s here. And I intend to be here with him.