Having a Boy slays me

There is something so achingly exquisite about seeing the love and sweetness young boys are capable of showing to each other. It comes before they learn to hide their feelings. Before they learn that showing physical affection with other boys is a kind of taboo. Even with our generation of men, so much freer to hug than their fathers before them, boys have to cut that off somehow. Maybe when they become men it is OK again to show affection. Certainly in sports you see boys and men giving each other bear hugs and hearty slaps on the back, but the tenderness is gone.

Today, when I picked Boy up from school, he was immersed in a game of knight slaying with two of his close buddies.

Boy! Boy! Your mom is here.

O.K., Boy, time to go home now.

Boy's Mom! Boy's Mom! Boy is dead right now.

I can see that... I'm afraid he's going to have to stop being dead so we can go home.

Playing dead, talking about being dead has become a favorite passion with Boy. As I feel my mortality creeping ever closer, he wants to fling "death" in my face. Not really. But, it can feel that way!

As he turned to leave with me, one of his friends called him, reached out and gave him a huge, heartfelt hug. Then the other friend said, Wait, Boy! And he, too, gave Boy a great big hug and Boy said, Oh... J, I love you.

Having a boy is ...rough tackling one minute and then they slay you with their tenderness. It is so very beautiful.

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