“Why are you taking my picture?” asked my 22-year-old son as I trailed behind him on a hiking path near our house. The leaves were beginning to change, and I wanted to capture the beauty of the woods and this moment with my adult son.
“Because I love you,” I told him, then laughed as I stopped to check the picture on my phone.
He shook his head, indicating the usual embarrassment most kids feel toward their parents. But then I swear one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.
It was the middle of a weekday and, due to assorted circumstances, we were both available to take a walk. I needed a break from my home office, and my son wanted to get some fresh air after finishing his laundry before leaving for his shift at a hotel.
A few months earlier, he had moved back home after graduating from college to save money and consider his next steps. My husband and I welcomed him while hiding our worry that we might be delaying his independence. What I didn’t foresee was how much we would enjoy having him around again.
But now this time is coming to a bittersweet end.
Living with my adult son again has been surprisingly easy
Before moving back home, my son had been a student living with friends, not his parents, so we worried about what this new living arrangement would look like.
Luckily, he has a full-time job and a schedule that often conflicts with ours. But in the evenings, we often all land at the dinner table together. I often serve him a meal much like I had throughout his teen years, but now we’re adults, swapping stories about co-workers and life in general.
It took some time to settle into something new. But having my son home has been nice — and dare I say, ordinary.
Gone were the busy teen years filled with practices and constant rushing around, replaced by evenings catching up and scrolling on our phones in companionable silence.
There’s now an end date to this arrangement
Soon after that midday walk, my son got engaged to his girlfriend of four years. My husband and I were thrilled that these two kind, funny, loving people had found each other. We’re all ecstatic when they set a wedding date for this fall.
She’s three hours away in graduate school, and he’ll be moving there to start their life together.
Alongside my happiness came the realization that this in-between season we were experiencing with him has an end date.
That knowledge has been a gift in a way. Knowing that this time is short-lived has sharpened my appreciation for it. My son and I have spent time doing the mundane, like that quick walk around the neighborhood. We’ve been rediscovering the city he grew up in, only now from his perspective as a young adult. Whereas I used to treat him to ice cream when he was younger, these days we scout breweries and decide which local joint has the best happy hour.
He’s teaching me about his favorite hobby, too, which he rediscovered from his childhood. He’s collecting Pokémon cards and showing me things like how he discards code cards and prefers to open packs. We even spent a rainy Saturday afternoon at an exotic animal rescue event. My husband was out of town, while my son and I wandered around looking at alligators and sloths. I wondered if this was the last of these kinds of afternoons.
I’m glad I got to live with my son as an adult
Sometimes I’m sad knowing our one-on-one time will soon look different. Yet more than that, I’m appreciative because in this last year, I’ve realized I’m not parenting a child anymore. Rather, in the time we’re spending together, I’m getting to know him as the man he’s become.
There’s a wedding tradition I’ve only learned about recently called the “Last Look.” I don’t recall this from when my husband and I got married decades ago, but I’m charmed by the idea now. As the groom’s mother, I’ll take a “Last Look” at my son before he walks down the aisle to marry his bride and step into married life.
I’ve realized that this time I’ve had with him, since he moved home and before he gets married, has been a whole year of last looks. And I’m grateful.
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