Sixteen Springs and Sixteen Summers Gone

Blog soundtrack:



Tomorrow!* Tomorrow is Nathan’s Junior Prom. Quite frankly, I never thought the day would come when Nathan would say to me, “Mom, I’m going to the Junior Prom.” Nathan declaring that he was going to wear a uniform and spend several hours at a social event that involved a girl was really surprising to me but in a good way.

Considering all his interests and his activities, the prom never seemed a likely one for Nathan. Playing soccer and hockey were organized school events with uniforms thrown in every now and then; however, I just couldn’t quite get my head around the tuxedo and girl part. The last time Nathan wore a suit was in 2002, and it seemed to me, given his “I will never get married or have kids” stance and his introverted nature that girls were definitely on his back burner.

But, there it was, a public statement declaring a commitment to an event I never expected Nathan to attend. In fact, I didn’t expect Nathan to wear a tuxedo in his lifetime given his previously mentioned opposition to marriage. You think you know your kids, but every now and then, they do surprise you or you're surprised by the fact that you really didn’t know them as well as you thought.

Of course, upon being told about his participation in the Junior Prom, I had a million questions. Who? When? Where? Nathan responded with, “Kelsey. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

So, I went with my only tidbit of information and asked, “Who’s Kelsey?” Not missing a beat Nathan smiled and answered, “A girl.” "Well, yes, I figured that Nathan," I said.

I could only get a little more information out of him, and it probably didn’t help that I got all goofy when asking about Kelsey. He would only reveal that he known her as a "friend" for 10 years, as they played in the same town soccer league, she attended one of the local private high schools, and that she was a great soccer player. I didn’t question further, even though I wanted to; I went into actress mode walking off pretending I was satisfied with those few tidbits, though I knew I would slowly extract more facts, statistic, and perhaps even find out her shoe size over the coming months!

All in all, I was very happy that Nathan was going to his prom. It even made me hopeful that I might get a grandchild somewhere down the line; however, I didn’t even begin to think about whether I wanted to be called “Granny,” “Grams,” or “LadyWhoIsWayTooYoungLookingToBeAGrandmother.” And, secretly, I was pleased that he was going with a “friend.”

The days following, I must admit that I did have some conflicting feelings. Somehow, having a son going to the prom made me feel old, probably because I remembered going to my Senior Prom so clearly that it felt like it was only yesterday. After the elderly notion passed, I began to go into Mother Bear mode and asked, after growling and baring my claws, “Who is this girl who has captivated my son? Is she good enough for him? Will she hurt him? Has he told her that I'm crazy?!?!”

I have a friend, and his daughter began going to dances with young gentlemen a year or so ago. I heard all of his concerns about his daughter’s suitors and watched him scrutinize each one of them. I kept thinking "Phew! At least, I don’t have to worry about this with Nathan for a long time,” and then BAM!

I had to laugh when he called his daughter’s suitors, “Meathead,” because I could understand the whole parental angst of doubting that your child’s love interest was as wonderful as your child. Earlier in the week, I requested that he call his daughter’s current suitor by his real name. He responded, “That’s what we fathers must call all boyfriends. You know, there's a father out there calling Nathan Meathead.” He had a point, because, until then, I had never thought of the situation in reverse!

Anyway, it was an emotional few days after “The Declaration of Junior Prom,” but I quickly snapped out of it and verbally smacked myself by saying, “He’s growing up. It’s going to be hard to get over it, but you have to!” I tried to ask him questions, but I limited myself to one a week. I was only given the prom’s exact location and date about two weeks ago.

Sometimes Nathan treated the prom like a covert operation, but I knew I could try to outwit him with my CSI and Law & Order tactics. Did I? No, not really.

Nathan had the upper-hand. Every once in a while, he threw me a bone like “I have to buy prom tickets tomorrow,” or “We’re all pitching in for a limo.” Then there was “Oh, here’s the prom invitation.” Lastly, there was “I’m going to get a tux with my Dad this Tuesday.”

If I couldn’t ask questions and get answers, then I knew the next best thing was volunteering…cash! I offered to rent his tux, but he said his Dad was going to do that. I then proposed that I buy his boutonnière and Kelsey’s corsage.

Nathan accepted my offer. I asked what her dress looked like and was promptly sent a picture of her dress, which he had obviously had a for a while, the scoundrel, but didn’t voluntarily share! I told him her dress was lovely and asked where she had gotten it; he said, “I don’t know,” and I wasn’t surprised at all by that answer.

Anyway, assuming the position of Flower Girl, I got all excited and began to chatter to myself. “Does she want a wrist corsage or one that pins onto her dress? Does she like roses or orchids? Does she prefer one color over another?” I said, “Nathan, you need to ask her all this, okay?” He nodded.

Late last week, I had no flower updates from Nathan. I texted him and told him to ask Kelsey about her corsage. He replied and said, “What exactly am I asking her again?” Obviously, flowers were the furthest prom thing from Nathan’s mind.

I texted him my three major questions. The next day, I still hadn’t had an update. So, I texted him to ask if he had any more info, and he responded only with “She doesn’t care.”

I didn’t know if that was Nathan’s opinion of the matter or her preference, so I punted; I liked the wrist corsage idea. I didn’t tell Nathan this because he already doubts my sanity, but I did Google “unique prom corsages” and spent about 30 minutes one morning trying to find the loveliest corsage on the Internet. Kelsey’s credentials were impressive from the start, but she really had me at her prom dress, which was unique, colorful, and not low-cut!

On Tuesday, I went to a nearby florist with the picture of Kelsey’s dress. I felt like I was 17 when I said to the florist, “I need a boutonnière and corsage for a prom. Here’s what her dress looks like.” The florist took one look and said, “What a lovely dress!” to which I answered, “Isn’t it?!?!” And, I tried so hard not to giggle when I said that.

She said, “I love the empire waist and the colors are so different.”
I asked, “So, what do you suggest?”
She paused for two long serious seconds and then she said, as if stating the theory of relatively for the very first time, “Yellow spray roses with delphinium.”
I said, “That sounds wonderful. Err, what exactly are delphinium?”
She showed me, and then I knew that this was going to be the “unique prom corsage” I had hoped for.

When I left the florist’s I had an overwhelming feeling of something; I don’t think there’s a word for it. I felt giddy, sentimental, sad, hyper, hopeful, anxious, and I really had to pee. My emotional hot flash aside, I climbed into the car and thought, “I better not cry when I see Nathan all dressed up. He’ll definitely delete me as a Facebook friend if I do that.”

Excited, I called him to tell him I had ordered the flowers. He said, “Oh, okay. I just got my tux.” I won’t tell you that statement sent me into another emotional hot flash. I said to myself, “This is a good time to practice not crying, Jean.”

When he got home Tuesday night, I said, “So, what time should I be at your Dad’s to take pictures?” He said, “What?” I said, “Pictures!” and he said, “Mom, there’s going to be no time for pictures.”

By now, I was used to these emotional hot flashes when they snuck up on me. I thought, “My son is going to be in a tux for the first time in his life, standing next to a beautiful girl, and I can’t take any pictures?!” It was time to call my lawyer; I’m your Mom, and I have a right to take pictures on this milestone occasion.

Last night, I was suddenly informed by Nathan that perhaps I could come to the park where they were all meeting and take pictures. I could even bring Iz, who wanted to ask if Kelsey could come over for dinner soon. Later in the evening, I heard Nathan’s IM go “bonk-bonk” for about twenty minutes, I then I heard Nathan say out-of-the-blue, “Yeah, Kelsey really wants to meet you.”

Hah! Just then, I felt like I had cracked a safe, Nathan’s “safe,” though maybe Kelsey was really the safecracker; thank you, Kelsey. I wanted to know her, and she wanted to know me. I thought we were off to a good start, and it appeared Nathan was willing to join us rather than to try and avoid the inevitable.

At 9 this morning, Nathan texted me. He asked me if I’d call school to dismiss him at 11am tomorrow. I did as asked, though I wondered why he didn’t ask the Bad Cop parent to do this; but it was the prom, so I didn’t think about it too much. I texted him with “Done,” he responded with “Love ya,” and I responded with my usual, “Yeah, yeah, yeah!”

In the last ten years, the most difficult thing for me had been my father’s death. I now add to that having to say “good bye” to Nathan when he goes off to college next year. I know he’s not going to leave my life; however, my life will change incredibly. And, yet again, I’m so glad that I have Iz, who continues to tell me that she’s never leaving me, not even to go to college. Yeah, yeah, yeah! ♥

*By the way, “Tomorrow!” is Nathan’s Facebook status. I was not stalking; it just happened to pop up when I logged in this afternoon, really. He’s excited about the tux, the night, and, most importantly, the girl; he really is growing up, and that, though it gave me yet another emotional hot flash, is fine by me. Yeah, yeah, yeah!