Chasing Cars

Posted on | August 1, 2012 | 9 Comments

We’ll do it all, everything, on our own.

We don’t need anything or anyone.

When I first got divorced, I would sing Snow Patrol to J as a lullaby, lying next to him, forehead to forehead, and trying not to cry.  I would watch his eye lids flutter closed as my voice cracked and broke, pooling beside of me in a rush of tears that came everytime he fell asleep.  Because every time he fell asleep, I was alone.

If I lay here, if I just lay here

Will you lie with me and just forget the world.

Even after he slept, I would run the words over and over sometimes out loud and sometimes only in my mind, criss crossing the lyrics on my heart like a pattern of healing.  In, out, up, down, stitching myself together again.  I couldn’t hear the song in daylight, couldn’t process how it made me feel… empowered and yet alone… responsible and afraid.  I was everything for J and he was everything for me.  We were a team… we needed each other.  But was that how it should be? Was I relying too much, loving too much?

I don’t quite know how to say how I feel.

Those three words, they’re said too much… they’re not enough.

Still, those words don’t seem enough to wrap around the love of a mother for a child.  Still saying “I love you” to J doesn’t quite cover it, doesn’t quite cloak him with the immense power of how I feel about my ever-changing son. There should be more words.  There should be a greater way to convey to a child just how awe-inspiring his very existence is.  But still I said it. Every day.  Still I say it, every day.  Because I have nothing else to offer him, not on the nights when he asks if Daddy loves Mommy best, or on the mornings he cries because Daddy isn’t there to take him to school.  He doesn’t understand, at nearly three, that his life is not like The Three Little Bears… in his life, there are only two.  And I worry everyday that I am not enough for him, though he is more than enough for me.

All that I am, all that I ever was… is here in your perfect eyes

They’re all I can see.

Today is August 1, 2012.  This is the month of my freedom, the end of the first year of my alone, the beginning, the continuation of the here and now moments of my life unfolding before me.  I am divorced.  I am single.  I am, above everything else, a mother.  And even now, as I watch my son sleep, his blond curls splayed across the pillow, his arms and legs a tangle of muscle and bone and toddler… even now and ever more, I am overcome with the feeling that all of this, all of him, is so much more than I deserve.  Even now I worry, I wonder, I fret that  maybe I am not doing everything I can, all that I should, to let him know how much he is loved, how the absence of his father doesn’t mean the absence of love. 

I don’t know where, confused about how as well…

Just know that these things will never change for us at all.

So I do what I can.  I do what all of us do… the very best we can, the very best we know.  I cook and clean and worry and nag.  I cuddle and snuggle and chastise and oh my God how I love… and at the end of the day I pray that all that I’m doing is somehow enough.  I pray that I am loving him enough, teaching him enough, preparing him enough for the days when his sun doesn’t rise and set with me… preparing him for the days when the world will begin to slowly encroach on his heart, leaving him open to heartache and disappointment.  I pray everyday that he will always know just how much I love him, even if the world isn’t always kind.  Because that’s what we do, isn’t it? That’s what being a mother is really about… being a sanctuary, a safety net, an ever-present heart that whispers “You are enough.  You are more than enough.  And you are loved.”

If I lay here, if I just lay here
Would you lie with me…
And just forget the world?


9 Responses to “Chasing Cars”

  1. Mrs. Burks
    August 1st, 2012 @ 8:59 am

    You’re amazing. J will definitely know how loved he is. And if for some reason he ever doubts it when he is older, that you love him and that everything you do is for him, all you need to do is show him these words. You have been through hell, but you are giving that sweet boy such a wonderful life full of love.

  2. Law Momma
    August 1st, 2012 @ 11:25 am

    I so hope so. I hope he will always know how much I love him… even when he’s mad as hell at me for all the things I won’t let him do in his teen years. 🙂

  3. KeAnne
    August 1st, 2012 @ 9:34 am

    This was beautiful.

  4. Law Momma
    August 1st, 2012 @ 11:25 am

    Thanks, friend.

  5. Sunshine
    August 1st, 2012 @ 10:43 am

    Right!? You always hope it’s enough, but those three words never seem to truly express that overwhelming feeling that envelopes your body and makes you choke on your own breath when you look at your little boy. Such a beautiful post – it moved me to tears!

  6. Law Momma
    August 1st, 2012 @ 11:25 am

    YES! It’s love like no other. Totally overwelming but in all the good ways. 🙂

  7. Jackie Henson
    August 1st, 2012 @ 11:39 am

    I love that song, it hits to the heart a bit too much sometimes but I still love it 😛 I too hope my little girl knows that I love her to the moon & back, words at times are never enough, life is definitely far from perfect for us but I wouldnt have it any other way, as we are adjusting to our new life of her & I am adjusting to being a single working mom. I am getting more at ease with that last bit 🙂

    J will know you are always in his corner even when it feels all other things are falling down around him, you are an amazing mom & sometimes you mess up & thats normal, we arent perfect 100% of the time, life is messy at times & you just have to show you are still there at the end of the day & will always be.

  8. Law Momma
    August 1st, 2012 @ 4:16 pm

    It is the hardest most rewarding job ever… such is the plight of the single mom. The only one to blame when things go wrong, but also the only one there at the end of the day to throw their arms around. I’m thinking the hugs make it all worth while. 🙂
    Hang in there… nobody has a perfect life. They just put on their perfect face to make themselves feel better. 😉

  9. Felicity @ Our Little Beehive
    August 3rd, 2012 @ 11:39 pm

    I love this. You and a small handful of other mom bloggers to boys continually remind me of just how lucky I am to have my amazing boy in my life. And that you feel this kind of deeper-than-love for your toddler boy makes me just a tiny bit ok with my baby growing up. I want to stop time, but maybe it’s ok if I can’t.

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    Spilled Milk (and Other Atrocities) by Law Momma is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
    Based on a work at
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