Sew what?, you ask. (Look how punny you are!) Why is that possibly worth a blog entry, Linda?
Well, I'll tell you.
These pants (and the other three pairs waiting their turn alongside two jackets) represent another first on our journey.
As I have written before, a transition isn't just about the person doing the heavy lifting, as it were. Everyone who loves, supports, and advocates for the person is also in transition. We learn, we adapt to the changes, we find more bad jokes to make, and we have our own firsts.
These pants are the first men's dress pants I am hemming for my son. We head out on a cruise in 20 days. A seven night cruise that will include a formal night, a semi formal night, and five other nights in which Toby has expressed his desire to "slay" alongside his sister, Culley. (No easy feat, as she slays by merely rolling out of bed in the morning.)
A seven night cruise on which Toby will finally, fully, freely be Mr. Toby Sharp - his passport and reservation both accurately aligned with his identity. A seven night cruise on which I will take many pictures, post many pictures - and shed many happy tears as I watch him navigate the decks of his much loved Disney ship as the man he is.
This cruise was planned 9 months ago - part of our transition plan when we were building our "underground railroad" for Toby. Timed for now because our lives typically revolve around soccer each fall. We knew we would be missing that component - in more ways than one. And we are. While we have spoken of it here and there, we each are mourning the loss quietly. We each are adjusting to our new lives without the element that had been so prevalent, so vital, so much of the air we breathed, so much of Toby's identity - and by extension ours, too - for almost 15 years. We are letting go, feeling that shift, transitioning to our new normal.
So these pants are important.
These pants represent another port of call on our journey, another swell in the ocean of our love for him, our pride in him, our admiration of him. And they represent me subtly changing yet again as well.
Because with each stitch, I am helping, I am moving forward, I am growing, too. With each stitch I am reminded that I have a son. A son who was tucked away for 19 years, but who is now fully living in the light. A handsome son who is funny, compassionate, intelligent, talented. And who will definitely "slay" on our cruise.
With each stitch I am reminded that we each reap what we sew.
I am sewing love.