He goes by Will now. He told me yesterday.
“I’m going by Will now, Mom.”
“Oh, Okay. But I might still call you William. Or Wuh-wuh in private. Or Little Bill.”
He even signed his love note to me with Will, instead of William.
I’m not sure that I like it. I’m not sure that I like that he is getting bigger, and changing things on me all by himself.
There I was, standing there in the kitchen minding my own business when he goes and makes a new name for himself without even consulting me. And then feeling secretly proud of him that he’s going out on his own here, and secretly kind of torn up because these little decisions he makes are his baby steps away from me.
And then I watch him. Quietly, I watch him. He fixes his water bottle for football practice with his mouth guard hanging out of his mouth and I watch him with this intense love for him that he will never understand.
I love this boy differently. I notice this more often lately…
Not more. Not less. Just different. He is different. He is intense. Everything is intense.
I want to remember him this way…in his long athletic shorts, his purple Nike shirt and his new elite socks that he bought with his own money. I want to remember how he looked as his little hands turned the lid on his water bottle, and how soft his hair felt as I hugged him. I want to remember his little voice.
I want to remember him just like this, before he changes anything else.
My little William.