Sometimes life is about the moment… the moments that you remember because they shape who you are. The moments that are brought on by a feeling, a song or a memory…the moments, good or bad, that you never forget because they stay with you forever.

I had one of those moments tonight. My eldest son, Kevin moved to Long Island. I am so proud of him. It was his decision to go and he even said, “Mom, I know that you’re upset with me for moving, but I have to go follow my dream.” You see, Kevin is a bright star, a writer, a deep thinker, a performer, an editor and a film maker. A spirit that hones his craft in the wee hour of the morning, not unlike me. I love this kid and he never ceases to amaze me with his wit and his drive. “Kevin,” I said, “The majority of your generation lives at home until they are almost thirty. I never pushed you to leave, but I believe in you and I support your decision.”

Kevin is a graduate of the Connecticut School of Broadcasting. He has an amazing ability to express himself and to connect with people. His expression is honest and real and he definitely has a gift that has been under construction since he picked up his first camera at the age of three. I love to see what Kevin is going to do or say next. He hasn’t had an easy path and he definitely wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but that is what makes his perspective on life so raw and so real. I  have always told my kids that it’s not what has happened to you but what you do with it and that all great art comes through struggle and pain, whether it be painting, writing, singing or film.

After arriving in New York,  Kevin called. “Mom, did you happen to put that cough medicine in my suitcase? I don’t feel well…I think I’m getting sick.”

I replied, “Yes Kevin, I did. Look in your suitcase and call me back.”

I had packed Kevin’s suitcase with brand new cologne, a hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, bar soap, razors, shaving cream, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, a toothbrush, nail cutters, wash cloths, Advil, Tylenol Cold, cough drops, a digital thermometer, face pads, Q-tips, socks, underwear, gloves, a hat, a flash light, batteries, stamps, envelopes, scissors, tape and clothes. I can’t even remember everything that I bought. I just wanted Kevin to have everything that he needed and all the comforts of home. I struggled to make it all fit in the overstuffed suitcase while John said, “You are such a good mother and I hope that Kevin realizes all of the love that went into all that you have done.”

At the last-minute, I took a small envelope, slid a one hundred-dollar bill in it, licked and sealed it…then wrote on the outside, “In case of emergency. Love, Mom.”

The phone rang. It was Kevin calling back. “Hi, Kev.” I said “Did you find the cough medicine?”

“Yes. Yo, that was the most motherly shit ever! Thank you.” Kevin replied

“You’re welcome. I love You, Kevin.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

Sometimes life is about the moment. This very moment.

 

 

 

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