There Is and Might be a Happy Ending 

Many, many years ago I started this website as mac-n-cheesemartinis.com. I had two kids, a marriage that was sliding precipitously into destruction, an MBA on the way, a sadness I couldn’t carry, and a hope to write and share and be open and free. I couldn’t be the only person who felt like me.  

I had at least one child not doing well in traditional school, and another on the way with a will the size of eternity, that said he wouldn’t be the child who made me feel secure in my parenting.  

I started out KNOWING I was ready, I was made, I was the person who should have children, who should love endlessly. I knew if I did it, if I had kids, I would never look back. It was hard deciding, but once I did, that was it. I looked at Mack with half-closed eyes and knew I found what I had been looking for.  

I knew what fulfillment, purpose, focus, love meant, what it was supposed to be.  

I watch movies now, and I’ve lived the storyline, you know, except for Marvel movies, cause I never got the outfits.  

But some days I felt that way, flying place to place, loving, seeking hope, building sand castles where the sand had been taken away.  

But if it doesn’t turn out, well, it did turn out. There’s an ending. My Mack graduates from high school in two weeks, ostensibly, and also maybe in reality. He is speaking at the ceremony, opening it. He is working 32 hours a week, taking his last few classes, telling me stories about the people he meets, the things he needs to do, the things he wants to be.  

I watch now. I don’t fret. I mean, I’ve practiced obviously. I hug him. He hugs me. We share shallow and deep things. I trust his mind. I trust him implicitly. We fight. We talk. We take the dogs for walks. We argue. We mend. We don’t avoid anything.  

He tricks me into the same conversations about the same things. I try unconvincingly to withdraw from being the mom, saying my speech again frivolously, as if the conduit to hearing is more open than… 

Well, I had parents too, and I know it makes no difference. He will be who he needs to be, with or without me.  

It turned out perfectly. The website, the pain, the glory, the silliness, the happiness, the continued journey.  

This marks his independence to me, this marks the edge of me being the involved parent to being his friend, whatever he asks me to be.  

I will always be available. I will always be ready with my speech. I will always be his mom, loving, judging sometimes, always learning.  

I will always know that the work was worth everything, the life I choose gave me something I can never be grateful enough for. The tears are rolling down my cheeks because I chose to be a mom. I rolled through the path painstakingly, and we are here, right now, in a place better than anything I could have imagined.  

Son, I love you. I am so proud of you. I am so deeply grateful for our journey. I wrote this website to keep me sane, to reach someone who felt the same way, to show you the path, and I end here today, not with writing, but with the message that all beautiful, difficult paths lead somewhere, and if you keep going, keep walking, leaping, trudging, crawling, the ending just might be great joy and pride and the very best of everything.  

Today, if you struggle, keep going. If you aren’t sure, do something different. If you’re tired, walk one more step. And rest. And love yourself so very deeply. It just might turn out exactly beautifully perfectly. But if you give up, you won’t be able to celebrate whatever it turns out to be.  

I love you, moms and dads and graduates.  

To Mack, To You, To Me 

With Love, 

CC