He doesn't write, He doesn't call....

Dear Alex,

You are back at school now. I miss you. We had so much fun this summer.

Everyone told me I would be in for it now that you are a teenager and I believed them.  This birthday, just like the last, I went to bed wondering if I was going to greet a stranger in the morning. Are 14-year-olds too cool for birthdays?

You woke me up an hour before the agreed upon time and I knew nothing had changed. You've messed up our agreement for birthday mornings in all sorts of different ways through out your life but honestly, I was  just relieved that you still cared enough about what Mom got you that you couldn't stand to wait to find out.

Last month, we went for a long walk on the beach, two and a half hours, just the two of us. We went because I thought it'd be fun to walk to the restaurant by the lighthouse. I asked you to come with me but to be honest, I was surprised when you said yes. The others sat at home and then drove there when I sent a text message to say that we had arrived. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful I found this  - this grumbly boy who really just wants to hang out with his online friends and shoot up bad guys was willing - even interested! - in taking a long walk on the sea shore just to find out what was there.

Although when I mentioned  doing it again, you didn't seem thrilled.

I love the fact that you have, for reasons I don't quite actually understand, decided to take responsibility for my hair. I'm not kind to my hair, I know. Sun, swimming and and age have combined to make my long hair tired and dry and fly-away. You nagged me to death (have you put conditioner on, Mom? It won't get better if you don't!) and when that didn't have the desired effect, you offered to comb through my hair and massage on the deep conditioning treatment for me like they do at salons. How sweet is that? And I am torn between loving this little symbol of you trying to take care of me and worrying that I'm going to box you into a lifetime as a hair stylist (not that there's anything WRONG with being a hairstylist, of course. But university first, OK?).

You are such a joy in my life and now that you are back at boarding school, I think it's important that I remind myself of all of the good things about you.

Because, do you remember? You promised to phone me once a week and email me in between.  It's been two weeks and I've had the phone company out twice. The phone has not rung.  I messaged you to ask if you had lost your phone.  You responded with:

No. XD

That's good news that you still have your phone. I think the second bit is meant to show me that you are smiling. Or that you lost your glasses. Or maybe someone stabbed out your eyes.

But at least I think it means that you are still alive.

So, I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking about you and I miss you and I would really love to hear from you. And that if you don't phone me by the end of the week, I am going to start taking apart your Xbox with a butter knife and sending you photographs of the individual pieces before I drop them in the sea.

Talk to you soon.

Love,

Mom.

Comments

[the planet of janet]

sylvia-

you/me = soul sisters.

your son/my son = obviously separated at birth.

go get that xbox, baby!!

[suburbancorrespondent]

Oooh, you play for keeps, apparently! And thanks for explaining (sort of) XD. I was busy trying to figure out what it was an acronym for. I am so out of it.

[Ilona]

My son lives at home full-time and I feel that way a lot. I hadn't thought of taking electronic hostages in exchange for Communication. Goodness only knows there's no shortage of possible victims. Shall I start with the boom box, the blackberry, the DSwhatever, one of the four hard drives, the xbox, the... Hmmmm....

[Sylvia]

Hah, it worked - he says he "hasn't had time to check his email" but I had a phone call within 24 hours of the ransom note!

I'm still not sure about the XD but he said he still has his glasses, so that's a relief. *grin*

[Karen]

When my daughter went away to college, I heard from her 6 times a day the first year. By the end of the second year, I had to call the local police department and have them drive by her apartment to check on her to see if she was still alive. She was totally embarassed, but she did at least start calling me once a week after that.

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