The Light

(From a Facebook post today.)

My son is special. I don’t mean that like most people do.

Yesterday I took him to our ice cream spot after we finished filming a scene from a movie I am in. I call him my agent. “I’ll pay you in ice cream” is our ongoing deal.

He always has an interesting story to tell me when we are together or long explanation of his Minecraft adventures and such and was in one as we got out of the car that caught my attention more than most of the rest.

Anyone who knows me knows that I consider him the best “thing” that ever “happened” to me, and my relationship with his mother not one of my greatest choices. Usually, I find, these things go together like that.

There have even been times where I have tried to explain everything to him, how life is with him and why it “had to be this way.” Each explanation is more elaborate but always lacking in some way.

“I saw you,” he said, “I saw you and my mom when you got married. I was there, watching you.”

Many times before he has asked where he was at this time, since he was born a year after the event.

Immediately when he said this my mind went back to that fateful day: standing on the altar waiting. And I felt a powerful feeling when he said those words. It was like a light- I remembered that moment: behind even the people who sit in the back in church at weddings there was a space my eyes were locked on where I felt a presence that kept me from running out of that church that day, even though I really didn’t otherwise want to be there. It was so powerful that I stayed.

Based on how I was at the time, he would not have been otherwise.

When he told me that, another version of myself may have told him “that’s not possible”; but instead, I felt it, and immediately hugged him from behind, and he, like he did as a toddler, nestled into me, and I buried my head in his hair and held my arms tightly around him; so he couldn’t see me cry.