So. I am sitting on the plane minding my business, enjoying reading an US Weekly from cover to cover with only interruptions for someone to bring me a drink (wonder of wonders!) and I start to notice a little commotion a few rows up. There is a mom with her big strapping boy sitting next to her, he is somewhere between 17-20. Tall, looking like a grown man, almost. But he is on a flight with his mom and he is sick. His tray table is down and his head is buried in his folded arms on the table. I'm thinking airsick? Migraine possibly? Something uncomfortable enough for a big strapping boy to show that yes, I don't feel well. His mother is talking to the flight attendant while at the same time rubbing his back, up and down, up and down. The flight attendant leaves, presumable to retrieve something. The mother's face is equal parts concern--directed at her son--with the other part starting to get The Look. The Look says to the flight attendant, "Looky here, missy. I've got a sick kid and I need you to hurry up and bring me a barf bag, a cold pack, a blanket, some ginger ale, and whatever else you have back there in that little magic cupboard before I get up and get it myself. Because I've got a sick kid to take care of and you best not get in the way of that." And then she looks over at her big boy and her face melts again into the concerned mother look and she leans down and whispers something in his ear and gives him a little pat on the back. And here is where I start wondering: just how long has it been since that big strong handsome boy has allowed his mother to take care of him like this, or even to have this close intimate physical contact? When you have small children this kind of thing occurs constantly--I reach out to rub my son's head as he walks by, he will let me hold his feet and hands and squeeze his little tummy. If I lean in to whisper something to my children they stop and listen like it is the most important thing they will hear all day. But I know this is short lived. Especially the level of physical touch and connection that small children bring. So I was wondering if in the midst of her concern this mother was a little bit reveling in the chance to one again provide comfort for her big boy the way she might have when he was a little boy running around the house. And I also took comfort in knowing that those opportunities, while further apart will keep coming, even when my kids are taller than me. But for now I am so happy to be where I'm at--with small, squishy, touchy, little kiddies.
