I saw the future you, tonight. Not the grown-up, or even the teenager. But definitely an older you — the look of a little boy who is no longer a toddler. It must have been the angle of your face as we were snuggling before bed. Your chin looked more lean, your nose less flat and squishy. It made me immensely proud of the three years you’ve lived, and almost breathless at who the older you might be.
I heard the future you, today. You said you were a mean person because you hit mommy and daddy, and I could pick out the tones of guilt and sadness within your proud proclamation. As I explained about mistakes and making things right, I examined the past — had we said something to make you feel wholly bad? And I vowed to be more aware of my words in anger. The future you will struggle – as most of us do – with generic labels stamping our identity. Good, bad, kind, mean. Today, I heard you identify your whole personhood negatively based on your current struggles, while whispering the hope that it wasn’t true. Know this, my son – your heart is good, the road is long, and there is redemption at every intersection.
I know the future you won’t want to snuggle. Won’t want the extra book. Won’t depend on me as a grounding force when emotions swell overwhelmingly. And that’s all as it should be. So I’m snuggling and reading and hugging now, knowing the future you is built now, during a time you will barely remember. Knowing that these critical years when you are tiny, fledgling, eagerly exploring and wholly dependent, will be wholly forgotten soon. Forgotten by you, at least. For me, they are my life’s work.
As I catch glimpses of the future you, I’m reminded of the critical balancing act of giving in with setting boundaries. Always dancing along a line of deep nurturing and guided independence. Because each day is a little nudge closer to that future you. Each day I’m memorizing your face as your baby pudge fades, hoping one day I’ll stare into the face of a 22-year-old and still see this sleepy toddler, clinging to my neck and drowsily demanding snuggles.
I know the future you, because he is who you are now – curious, cautious, and carefree.
And I can’t wait to meet him.
