Boys’ Mamas

I’ve heard it said.

That boys never call.

That, once they get married, you’ll never see them again.

That girls are forever, but boys you only get for a little while.

So I pray.

I pray you’ll call.

When you’re happy and when you’re sad; when things are going right and when they’re going wrong.

That you’ll ask your dad how to hang the TV or change the oil in your car, then you’ll shoot me a text because you forgot which setting and temperature to use for your laundry.

I pray you’ll visit.

For holidays and long weekends and special occasions; for the heck of it, because you miss home and your bed and my cooking.

That you’ll bring your family back to where it all began, where you became the incredible you that you are. We can all sit around after dinner and your dad will tell embarrassing stories about younger you, and I’ll laugh with tears in my eyes as I gaze upon the face of a man and still see my little boy.

I pray you’ll stay.

Not that you can’t adventure and explore and flourish and build a beautiful life of your own, but that we’ll stay in your heart, the way you are imprinted upon ours.

That our closeness won’t change with the miles between us, and that you’ll cherish the memories of your childhood, holding them tight as you navigate your new path. And you’ll know, without a doubt, that our door and arms are always open.

Because I’ve heard it said.

But I pray ours, my sweet boy, is a different story.

Reposted from Kisses From Boys with Krista Ward