Its 10.00 clock in the night, some would say pretty early in the day to go out looking for a boy who will turn 20 next month. But yesterday night I did just that. I dragged my husband out of bed to go looking for our son as there was no response to calls I made to his mobile phone several times nor a reply to my text messages. The phone was switched on so I could not figure out why he was not answering it. I knew he was having a Halloween party at his college till 8.00p.m.but this was two hours later than the time he told me he would finish.
Halfway into our drive from home, he calls and the first thing he asks me is, ”Amma, why are you calling everyone? I had left my phone in the bag so could not answer.” I brush off his question with some vague answer and say I did not call everyone. ( Just two friends and the mother of a friend.)
The simple answer to the Why? question should have been, “Because I am a mother.” Plain and simple. Just being a “Mother” is enough reason to overreact at the smallest hint of a perceived threat to their offspring. Most times these threats are imaginary and something the children would brush aside without blinking an eye. For me it an instinctive reaction. I can’t help it and I know it’s certainly NOT JUST ME. I am not aggressive by nature but when the “MOTHER” in me kicks in I am a Tigress. It’s funny how I completely change and become the over protective person trying to shield the children from all kinds of things. And I am not even close to being a very hands-on mother. The Tiger Mom is not me, but it’s also very much me.
Later back in bed that night, I stay up thinking that it’s time to let go. In December he will turn 20. He is legally an adult. He can operate his own bank account, he has got his own driving license, he is entitled to vote whenever the next election comes around and he is old enough to take a wife if he so wishes. (At this point he made it known to me he has no intention of ever getting married and I have in turn told him it’s a wise decision as I have no intention of taking care of grandchildren in my retirement years. )
I get annoyed at times when my mother still calls to check if I am getting late to come home, when she asks if I have had my meals, when she gets overly worried if I complain of being unwell. I am itching to tell her I am a grown up woman now, I can take care of myself but I don’t. It’s true what they say. For a mother her children will always be her little ones. It’s one home truth that will not change.