Being Erik's Mother

My beautiful Erik...he was something.  He was a handful from the start, cranky as a baby, never sleeping through the night, and always on the move.  He had blonde hair that was almost white and curled, but just at the ends, and the brightest blue eyes.  As a child he was always on the small side, which just made him all the cuter.  He was the opposite of his brother in every way,  but very funny and very sweet. 

I know I have said it before - but it seemed that everyone especially loved him.  I think it was because he always had a bit of a shy nervousness about him, which just made him more appealing and caused people to reach out to him.  I remember that his preschool teacher had always obviously favored him, and told me once that he was a favorite of the other little kids at the preschool.

This continued on that he was always popular and likeable, and while school was hard for him, he excelled on the soccer field or basketball court.  I may sound like a biased mother, but I often heard other parents or people watching the games, saying, "Hey, look at him", or, "look at that guy run", or, "look at him pass the ball."  I think he stood out because he always, in that one venue, look relaxed and so joyous.  He was never a poor sport, or hard on himself or the other players.  He just loved being there.

Then as his mid-teens turned into his late teens, he seemed to have issues and conflicts so much greater than the "normal" teenage angst.  And from there on until we lost him, life was a haze of mental health issues, frightening days, angry days, and sad days.

But this is not what I want to say right now.  What I want to tell the world right now, is that I never, ever, regretted being or wished I wasn't Erik's mom.  Maybe most people would say well of course that's true, but when I initially looked back over his last third of his life, all that we went through, and then the heartbreak of his death, I couldn't help but be surprised that I didn't walk around wishing I had gotten to be someone else's mother.

I even played out this little fantasy in my head.  I would pretend that I got to talk to God ahead of time, and he said to me, "Mary Ann, this is what Erik will be like, and how your life will be with him".  Then he would show me other sons to choose from, who were extraordinarily gifted, found school and careers easy, and lived long and very successful lives.  Then God would say, "So you can choose to have any of these souls to be your son, or you can choose to still have Erik, knowing how hard it will be".  And without even thinking about it, without missing a beat, I would always say in my fantasy, "Oh no, I only want Erik.  He's the one I want."

In my brain, I step back and think this is amazing.  Why would anyone choose to have a hard time instead of an easy time?  If there would be no judgment or penalty, why would I not choose a joyous easy family?  It seems like an enigma to me.

As I grapple with it, I guess there is only one obvious answer...it is the inexplicable ability of mothers for unconditional love.  It is that belief deep in our hearts that it was our destiny to be the mother of certain human beings, maybe one, maybe two, maybe ten, it is that  bond of motherhood.

And no matter how hard it was, and whatever heartbreak it brought, I will always be grateful I was Erik's mother, and would not have traded him for anyone in the world.  For me, this was motherhood.

I love you Erik.