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Recently, Ben spent his first night away from home. No, that’s not right. He spent his first half-night away from home. Around 11:30pm, my husband and I were watching the tail end of a movie when the phone rang. We looked at each other meaningfully before getting up to answer it. It was Ben’s friend. “Uhh, Slouching Dad, Ben’s a little upset. I think you need to come get him.” Turns out that the friend’s father was already asleep, and the boys hadn’t wanted to wake him. (I’ve always loved this particular friend of Ben’s. The fact that he didn’t make Ben feel embarrassed about his sadness, or talk about it the following week at school, makes me positively adore him.)

When Ben arrived home, it was close to midnight, and I didn’t think it was the right time to discuss with him what had happened (if anything) to make him feel lonely, scared, or sad. But my husband told me that in the car, Ben had alluded to missing Jack. And my heart swelled. So rare is it for Ben to offer recognition of Jack’s importance to him. I know that he loves Jack. His father knows that he loves Jack. But Jack doesn’t think that his brother loves him.

At breakfast the next morning, we told Jack that Ben had missed him. Ben acknowledged the statement with a grunt and a nod. And Jack beamed. It was beautiful, it really was. As I sat sipping coffee, I felt glad that, no matter what else we’ve done wrong as parents, we’ve created a home that our child carries in his heart, so that when he is hurting, he seeks it out.

Once, when we returned from a beach trip, Ben, eight at the time, stood at the door and pronounced, “Ahh, the sweet smell of home.” My husband and I laughed and laughed, both of us thinking, What smell is that? The smell of the garbage that we forgot to take out before we left for a week?

From today’s vantage point, I see Ben’s one-liner as more sweet than funny. I know perfectly well that his next sleepover will be a success. Or, if not that one, then the next one. I’m not worried about Ben’s ability to make his way in the world without us. He’s far too social for that.

No, I’m relieved, really relieved, that he gets it — if he needs to, he can call home and be picked up, no questions asked — that he thinks of our home as a nest. He will fly away. That’s the way of things. But from the looks of it, he’ll return now and again, craving safety, familiarity, and comfort.

When I first cradled Ben in my arms, as scared and unprepared for parenthood as I felt, I understood – viscerally — that I’d be satisfied if someday he realized that he’d been loved truly, madly, deeply.

“Someday” has arrived. And all the teenage angst yet to come won’t erase my pride in the fact that my husband and I? We did it. We did what is arguably the most important thing.

by Slouching Mom

Photo graciously provided by Frazzled Jen, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved