I woke up this morning, blinking my eyes and stretching, with “Let It Be” running through my mind. You know – the song by The Beatles. I lay there a minute, listening, absorbing, wondering why it was in my head, and then I knew. It was a really big day, and I couldn’t be there for it.

Aidan, my younger son, my baby, is fifteen today. And today is also his first day of high school. Those two things are big enough already, but here’s the piece de resistance – his high school is in Los Angeles, 700 miles away from me. He is fifteen, and he has chosen to live with his father now, a decision that I accept with love.

For nine years (perhaps longer, subconsciously), I knew that this day would come. I remember the summer that he turned six, the first summer that he went for several weeks to visit his dad, who had moved to L.A. from Oregon six months before. Aidan came back to Oregon after the visit confused and angry that he had to leave his dad to come home, that his dad lived far away. At age six, Aidan was not able to identify and verbalize his emotions surrounding this, and he lashed out at me and told me that he didn’t love me and didn’t want to live with me. I knew that he was hurting, and that I was the parent he could take it out on. He was just six years old, and it was the only thing he could do. I ached for him more than myself. And it was then that I knew – one day, he would go.

But I knew for sure last year in September, when he started talking about it in earnest. Not just talking about it, but telling me that he planned to go to high school in L.A., and that his dad was very happy about it. Although supportive, I put off dealing with it emotionally, thinking that things might change, but deep down, I knew. And in January I realized that I had just six months left with my younger son in my daily presence and decided that I needed to focus on him. I alluded to that in my final blog post at Teen Autism, and from then on I spent about five evenings a week with Aidan – playing board games, reading together, talking, or watching movies and X-Files episodes.

And my beautiful, sweet son not only wanted to spend that extra time with me, he made it a priority. He cut down on his X-Box Live time with his buddies in favor of board game nights or movie nights with Mom. And I wasn’t the only recipient of his familial attention. Aidan made it a point to spend extra time with Nigel, really hanging out with him doing the quality time gig, and doing it sincerely. He got down on the floor and built Lego worlds with Nigel, doing something that most teens (himself included) had outgrown years ago. Aidan talked with him about movie ideas and patiently offered suggestions. Without verbalizing it (at least not when I was around), he seemed to realize that the longest he and Nigel had ever been apart was five days while Nigel was at Scout camp. I wasn’t the only one who would be affected by this big change, and Aidan knew it.

But that’s the kind of person he is – empathetic, patient, intuitive, proactive. Like his brother, he’s a different sort of teen, but in different ways. He couldn’t care less about sports, but he loves to bodysurf. He reads voraciously, mostly science fiction, but also National Geographic, J.R.R. Tolkien, Get Fuzzy, and Game Informer. He’s not into any current music – whatsoever. He can’t stand most of what his peers listen to. Aidan’s into old rock (CCR and AC/DC) and classic metal (Black Sabbath and Dio). He even likes Journey and still loves Bob Marley. When I mentioned that today was his “Golden Birthday,” he didn’t know what that meant and didn’t care. And I love that. I love his hair and his clothes. I love his mind and his heart. I love everything about him, even his rigid eating habits and his nonchalance about his grades.

This is the baby who slept in my bed for nine months. This is the three-year-old who wasn’t talking and needed speech therapy. This is the seven-year-old who said he feels like he has two lives. This is the ten-year-old who told me he’s always felt like the older brother. This is the teenager who needs the space to carve out his own identity. And this is the same six-year-old missing his father.

And so, I am letting go and letting it be. That’s what the past year has been about – preparing for this moment. For a while I tried to fool myself by pretending that he’s going away to college four years early, but I don’t need to do that anymore. I miss him, of course, terribly so. But he is doing what I have always known he would need to do, and I honor that. He is fifteen, and he is on his path. He always has been.

Happy Birthday, Aidan, my amazing son. I am so happy to be your mom and so blessed to have you in my life. I love you more than words could ever say.

13 thoughts on “Fifteen

  1. oh, tanya. this is absolutely beautiful in so very many ways.

    he’s one hell of a kid. and you, my friend are a truly incredible mother. to love enough to let go .. that’s everything.

    love you.

  2. You write so beautifully. My daughter has much of those same feelings, being the younger(teen) sister to an older (teen) brother with autism. Much luck to Aidan in his High School adventure. Hugs to you..

  3. “Happy Birthday, Aidan!”

    I know first hand that the love that is strong enough to “let go” is the hardest of all…

    praying for you both as Aidan finds his way down the path of life he carves out for himself.

    Hugs, my friend!

  4. beautiful and heartbreaking. Your Aidan has grown up so handsome and clever. You have done a marvelous job and are bravely doing the right thing by not holdin back. he is very brave too. A very big step for him that I hope will be a great success!

    Gorgeous photo of you both 😉

    xx Jazzy

  5. This had me in tears as I knew it would. Oh Tanya. You are an amazing mOther. To be able go let go at 15, to respect what he has to do for himself-it says so much.

    And happy birthday to aiden. I love that he really carved out the quality time with you a nd Nigel-says a lot abOut him.

  6. Strange coincidence, I was just listening to Let It Be last week. Melancholy tune, yet comforting as well. I know that Aidan feels your love across the miles. I hope he’s having a fun birthday!

  7. i feel like *i* have watched aidan grow up through your writing. i remember your birthday letters to him in past years, his surgey, his summer trips to CA. you’ve made us feel like he’s our little one, too. now he is FIFTEEN?! always your mother love for aidan and nigel has inspired me, set the example. and here you go again. one of the most amazing mamas i know.

  8. I am SO sorry that in the midst of all the chaos of my week I forgot to wish Aiden a happy birthday!!!!! Please tell him for me. Love ya!

  9. That’s hard, Tanya. Wow! You did allude to some kind of change coming at the end of your last blog, and I wondered what it was… This is pretty big. Good luck to you in this transition, an may it work out for the best for all of you. I know it will be hard at first.

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