Easter came and passed. We had planned nothing significant except for inviting a young couple recently moved here from the mid-West. The menu included the holiday’s center piece, ham, one of the favorites of the college son. Easter, however, does not fall on the college’s holiday or spring break schedule. Since the college is but a 15-minute drive from home, it was natural to think of him followed by a hopeful phone call: “I am making ham for Easter… want to come home?” My short question was reciprocated with a short answer: “No, thank you”. Our interaction maybe somewhat unconventional, but it was neither surprising nor anything personal. He has not had a habit of coming home except for school breaks when college shuts down and food and lodging become unavailable. The politeness of our conversation also reminds me of our other iteration at the end of our short and sparse phone calls when I declare my motherly affection in “I love you”, he’d always reply: “Thanks”.
This May would conclude his 2nd year of college, although we expect him to extend beyond the normal 4-year term. He is at best a B or C student thus far with 4-class load per semester. Comparing to the accomplishment of our friends’ or acquaintances’ children from far more impressive schools, his report or prospect is inferior but not sad. His father went even further by saying he would be out dancing on the street if he in fact finishes this semester with all B’s.
Thinking back, he has not come back much this whole sophomore year. When he finally came home for winter break, we noticed the changes. The only thing that bonds us together has always been his obsession with movies and TV series, for which he would almost zealously invite us to watch with him. For two middle-aged, over-working parents with a 4am wake-up call, staying up beyond 9pm was indeed a struggle both physically and mentally, but our love for him eventually did overcome and we had then watched and enjoyed quite a few good series with him. We were hoping to continue our bonding during the Christmas break, but just like many of his obsessions (robotics, video games and biking) it stopped. Either he had found nothing good or merely lost interest in our company, the invites became a thing in the past. He disappeared into his room for the most part of his 1-month break. Except for his showing up for meals, I’d almost forget he had come home.
Such lack of maternal instinct for him might appear to be unloving on my part. I have wondered sometimes if my coworkers, friends or even extended family ever question the reality of our love for this other son as his name hardly ever pops out of the conversation. Those who don’t know us or him well may think it has something to do with the common “second-child syndrome”, but even with those who know us better probably couldn’t help judging us for our obvious bias between 2 children. Besides conversation topic, he has also been missed from family activities such as trips, hiking or bowling. I could not fault them. The truth is we don’t even think of him much since he went off to college.
Ironically, his presence before then had been anything but muted. The thought of him even now is as weighty and volcanic as he is. As imaginative and expressive as I am, I am lost at words when it comes to him. Having lived with him for 20 years, there is time when I doubt if I could even figure him out given another 20 more years. One more month before summer break, I am already overwhelmed with mixed emotion for his return: excited, fearful, expectant,reluctant.... Mayhap this is the story of him: an existence of oxymoron in many folds: innocent yet damaging, present yet absent, my son and the stranger.
My heart is full but words are done. A short glimpse of him on a Monday morning will do for now. The mystery of this human being has added such spice in our life that no one could ever dare to match. He may be no trophy son as others are, but if I ever had a choice, I would be proud to be someone like him – complex and unpredictable beyond all words and norms.
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