He was grumpy. It was 6:30 a.m. and he came down the stairs in a mood. NO, he didn’t want breakfast. NO, he didn’t want a hug. He was tired. Not in the mood for talking. I tried to joke with him. I tried. It fell flat. It hurt my feelings.
I walked away, dejected. And not gonna lie – I teared up a little after he left for school. Did I know it wasn’t my fault he was grumpy? Of course. Did I get that he’s a teen and is prone to moodiness? Absolutely. Did it hurt anyway? Yup. It sure did.
And to be honest, it’s been a rough week for me, too. If you’ve been reading my blog, you know that I’m dealing with the potential loss of my storefront, and a business that I’d build for the past nine years. So while my son may not have needed a hug, I definitely did.
A few hours later, while on his lunch break, I got a text. “Nothing was wrong this morning. I was just tired and didn’t want to get up for school.” and then, another text. “I love you.”
Did I cry? Yessiree, Bob. Have I been an emotional mess this week? Um, der. Of course. But getting that text made me proud. He thought about the morning. Perhaps he realized that my feelings were hurt. Perhaps he knew that it had been a very hard week for me, and that maybe it was less about me hugging him, than me really needing that hug.
For whatever reason, he reached out.
He’s growing up. He’s growing into a thoughtful, loving and respectful young man.
When he came home from school, he found me putting away dishes in the kitchen. He stood there awkwardly for a few minutes and I realized why. He would never say it, but he was waiting for me to hug him.
And I did.