My Jameson and I took a turn going out this week.

“I’m really excited, Mom, aren’t you?” he asked that afternoon. That made me smile.

My two boys, best friends and yet so different. William just loves the pizza and ice cream; this one loves the experience. I knew he was expecting a real “date” kind of request for dinner, so that’s what we did.

He ran to his room to get ready, door closed firmly shut, no peeking. Emerged in shirt and tie with jacket, because that’s who he is. I expect nothing less!

We held hands as we drove and chatted, and I couldn’t help but be hit by waves of nostalgia, remembering so vividly the baby who made me a mama, snuggled in my arms on our little second-story porch as I sang to him. Wasn’t that yesterday? Or did it ever happen?

He was my sole focus for two hours. We ordered our food, and of course he wanted to try something new, because that’s who he is! Calamari because it’s his favorite, crab cake because he’d never had one. He tried my gazpacho and liked it. “I like new flavors.”

He is tall. Capable. Articulate. Excited and hesitant, all at once. Loves people but happy to be alone with his own ideas, too.

And he loves me. It was so good to just spend two hours alone, saying in words and just in the silence of being side by side, “I love you.”

My 9 year old boy, almost 10. More dear to me than I ever could have imagined. Thanks for holding my hand.