Height

My son is now taller than me.

It’s not easy.

Kyra’s always like “Stand back to back with Dillon.”

I wont do it.

Will not do it.

No way.

I already know he’s taller.

I don’t need it shoved in my face.

It’s not a pride thing.

Well, it is.

But, more than anything, it is a sadness thing.

When he was inconsolable as an infant, we’d put on Lionel Richie’s “Penny Lover”. I’d cradle him in my arms, rock him back and forth, and upon hearing the first few beats he’d go instantly quiet.

Now, this human that I used to carry on my shoulders has outgrown me.

I suspected that this day would arrive.

Kyra’s got height on her side of the family.

I was even hoping for this day.

Our culture favors the tall.

So, I’m happy for him.

However, it’s also a bit annoying.

Whenever he walks past me in the house, he finds a way to physically challenge me.

Recently, we were visiting his Nonnie. 

He had been shoving his shoulder into mine all day long.

Hell, all week long.

I was at my breaking point.

Anyways, I was standing behind Nonnie’s new couch (which she pampers, rightfully so) when he walked up behind me, put me in a bear hug and said “Break free”.

I did.

Easily, I might add.

But, I didn’t stop there.

I couldn’t.

Something primal took over me.

I turned around, picked his skinny-taller-than-me ass up off the ground and threw him over the couch.

He bounced off the cushion and landed onto the floor.

Nonnie’s covered her shocked-open mouth with her hand and gave out a gasp of a scream.

I apologized to her.

Not to him.

He was fine.

I know I was wrong to do that.

But, it had to be done.

I had to reset the hierarchy.

And, it felt good.

Still feels good.

Moreover, it worked.

He stopped physically challenging me.

Well, for about a week, he did.

Honestly, I’m not taking this whole him being taller than me thing very well.

Every time he stands next to me I feel the current of time rapidly rushing past.

I feel loss.

I had my chance to raise a child.

I’ll never have that again.

It’s gone.

Done.

But, its more than that.

I’m feeling a bit insecure.

I want to loom large in his life.

When I was taller than him, I was reassured of my looming large every time he had to raise his eyes to meet mine.

Now, I have to raise my eyes to meet his.

And, without that reassurance, my looming large sorta feels like an open question.

I mean.

He sees me out in the world where most others are taller than me.

Now, I personally don’t have a height insecurity.

I never really had it.

But, me being me in a world where his friends are getting taller than me and height is highly valued has me wondering what he sees when he sees me.

Is it prideful for me to want him to see me as a larger-than-life individual?

That’s sort of what I’m going for.

But, since I can’t go around throwing his friends and others over nearby couches to prove myself, I guess I’ll just have to do it the hard way.

You know, earn it, by being good to him, his Mom, everyone else and the natural world.

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Thanks. – shawn

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