For 22 years we were connected.
I remember vividly the moment of his birth - and even before he was born, I got to know him, heard his heart beat, felt his kicks. I could not sleep at night or had to go to the toilet every half an hour, but I knew that things would not get easier after the great day.
Since then I have sat by his bedside countless nights, have comforted him, have watched his sleep when he was sick. I sang for him, read stories to him, taught him to speak, taught him what is right or wrong.
I spent days in the ER of the local hospital, was worried sick when he had to have an operation, looked after his wounds. I also had to care about his eye sight and his teeth - even against his will.
When he came to school, it was me who practised reading with him, fought for treatment of his dyslexia, practised reading and English vocabulary.
I nourished him ... first with my own body, then by carrying the food into the house.
Even a few weeks before he moved out, we hat do sit in the ER after a car accident. And a few days before he left I had to shut down his computer, as there was a DVD making a lot of noise while he was softly snoring.
For 22 years I was responsible - can you imagine that now I need a few days to get used to the fact that from one day to the other I only have to look after myself ?
When he was small, I gave him roots - when he grew up, I gave him wings.
Now he has spread his wings and is flying. I know this is how it must be - it is good this way.
And I am slowly getting used to it ... I am learning to fly into this new part of my life, too .
