A New Reel For Him, A New Chapter For Me

My son, Bryant, is tipping his hat to his high school days and moving onto his first year of college to study film production. We have ten days left with him under our roof. It's an astoundingly emotional time of life as a mother to watch your first child get ready to leave home. He is so ready to be on this next adventure, to be somewhere new, to meet new people, to study mostly what he wants to study rather than subjects he doesn't care about. But then again, he's my kid who was always looking beyond, was always adventuring, was always walking out of the house. In a sense, he's been leaving home since he could toddle away. 

When Bryant was three, I couldn't find him in the house one day. I looked all over inside. No Bryant. I didn't spend too many more minutes looking indoors because I knew in my gut he had left the house. I opened the slider to the back and stood quietly and listened because I didn't see him in the yard. I walked out and headed toward the street. And then I heard his voice. Several houses down. In someone else's yard. So I walked over. Sure enough, there he was playing with some kids. He was super happy, chattering away, running around, being himself. I went over to him and told him he can't just leave the house, that I was worried. His reply? "I heard some kids over there." It was pretty simple for him. Kids = must meet them. So he did. That was the first time I took note that he was already leaving. 

Another time when he was four, I lost Bryant in a Home Depot. Yes, I was one of those parents that provoked a 'Code Adam' in a huge box store. I was told to wait at the front desk, to not search for him myself, even though I already had run once past every aisle already looking for him and was beyond agitated that I didn't find him. But I waited, let the staff search, and soon the paint department called the desk. They had found him. I walked to Paint, and sure enough he was sitting on an orange vinyl stool behind the paint counter. A pretty blonde salesgirl who couldn't have been more than twenty smiled at me and said, 'He just appeared and started talking to me!'  She laughed as Bryant waved at me and said, 'Oh hi Mom!' 

Oh hi Mom. 

That moment of nonchalant waving was the second time I took note that my son was already leaving. (Side note: It was also the start of his grade school obsession with blondes. I'm convinced to this day that cute blonde paint girl rewired his brain by talking to him cheerily and letting him sit on her special personal orange stool and laughing the way she did. Do I still remember her pretty face and exact tone of her happy young voice? Yes. Every aspect. But I digress.)

The next time I noted my son's obsession with pretty blondes was his first day of kindergarten. Yes, I'm going to digress even farther - humor me - this post is going to be long anyway. I got a call from another mother that first day who wanted to explain why her five year old daughter kissed my son on the lips on the bus ride home. She was a blonde. And her name was Jacqueline. Because of course it was. ;) Her mom apologized for her and said their family is very affectionate and she didn't mean anything by it but wanted me to know what happened in case Bryant said anything.

And then there was the incident when we went up the mountains to ski as a family. Bryant put his gear outside the car in the snowy lot and was putting on his boots when two pretty college aged (blonde) girls walked by with their skis. 

Bryant: (yelling to them) "Hi! What's your names?"
Blonde girls: (laughing)
Bryant: "Are you going skiing?"
Blonde girls: (laughing) "Yes."
Bryant: "I'm going skiing too! I'll see you up at the top!"

Note that he was so small his skis were like tongue depressors. No poles. And a curling Power Ranger sticker (red) on his winter coat. He slept in Batman pajamas. With detachable velcro cape. But the confidence. Lord. Have mercy.

He had several other blonde obsession moments. The time at the mall he saw two blonde teens sitting at the play structure seating pit is a day I will never forget. He came up behind the two girls and put one arm around each shoulder and said, "Hey girls! How's it goin'?" They just burst out laughing and said, "We're fine! How are you?" (more laughing).
He was six.
I was shocked.

Even these silly stories to me are all stories of him leaving. Moving out into the world of fascinating activities, mountains to ski, new kids to meet, store employees to chat up, and blondes to hit on at six. *choking cough*

This was me and Bry when he was a baby.

See his expression? He never liked to be constricted. He would squirm. Look away. He didn't need to be held to fall asleep. I could just put him his crib and he'd roll over and that was it. He's not a high touch person, never has been. Even in those early days, I could feel him leaving. He was his own person apart from me even as a baby. It was fascinating as a parent who always thought babies liked to be held non-stop. Not this kid. A little holding, ok, but too much and he wanted his space.

Since his childhood days, he's left home physically many times. He left for baseball tournaments, for camps, for overnights, for trips with friends. When it was time for him to visit colleges, we put him on a plane by himself the August between junior and senior year. 

He wanted to go from Seattle to Los Angeles on his own and felt confident he could tour the schools and inform himself. So he did. He visited four colleges, got a good idea of film programs at all of them and came home in one piece. We have relatives in the L.A. area he could crash at their places at night and borrow cars from. But still. Whose kid tours colleges out of state all alone? This was the biggest moment so far of knowing he was really going to leave in a big way. Very soon. Just one year later. It was the beginning of the senior year letting go process for me that of course really got notched up at graduation. 

Graduation was the beginning of me saying silently, "Please don't let go of me even though I know you're ready to leave." I have to remind myself a lot these days that not only was I on borrowed time with my kids all along, but that he was leaving all along too. And I got ok with each new step even if I felt bereft in varying degrees.

I feel he will be ok at college. I think he will make mistakes, but he will be ok. He will find ways to solve problems. He will get his laundry done. He will make films. He will learn new skills. He can walk out and through all the doors now by his own choice.

I hope Los Angeles is ready for this kid who's been getting ready for this new season for all his life.

Our home won't be the same without him. Probably never again will we all live together under this roof consistently. His sister will miss him and all the silly stuff they did together.

Our dog will miss him. 

His dad and I, and we as a family will all miss him. 

We will miss watching this 70 games a year...

I will miss being silly-stupid with him.

I will miss taking his picture on the first day because I have first day of school photos from kindergarten...

to senior year...

And I won't be there ever again on a first day. I know I will grieve when we leave him on campus and drive away even if I'm super happy for him too.

I'm proud of my son for the higher roads he's taken consistently even when alone, and for his hard work at school and in relationships. He takes a hold of life passionately and I respect that.

As I wind down this reel and end my post, these last few shots are just some more I like from Bryant's senior photos. I took all his senior pics myself because I just wanted the time with him and me. I knew he wouldn't act the same with an outside photographer, and I wanted to capture the real him. So no, they're not the awesome professional level kind of pics, but we had a lot of fun shooting these and just goofing around together that day.

I will be praying for this boy every day - for his life and relationships and new ball team and film school and staying healthy and well...just everything. And in a way, I'm both amused and thankful that he's been teaching me to let him leave for years and years in his own funny ways. We'll see if that benefits me at all on drop-off weekend in ten days. I'm thinking probably not, that this is going to be one of those goodbyes you can't prepare yourself adequately. 

I love you kid! 

-Mom

#BeginSomedayToday 

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Email: christinahyun@johnlscott.com