Not Fully Cooked, But Already Enough

(Or the Text that Undid Me)

A few months ago, I was messaging with the mom of a good friend from high school.

There was a time when I loved when my friends’ parents reached out. I could tell them how well I was doing and what new project or adventure I was on. This time was different.

Using everything I have just to stay alive is humbling.

Still, she told me she was proud of me. She said if I needed proof, I should look at my son and see who he is becoming. At 14, she reminded me, no one is “fully cooked.”

But I bristled. What if I haven’t shown up for him in all the ways he needs? That thought stuck with me.

On Sunday, Briggs spent the day with his aunt, then went to a birthday party, and finally back to his dad’s. He left his PS5 in my car and asked me to drop it off. I forgot.

When he texted later, his disappointment came through loud and clear.

I waited until I was settled before I replied:
“ I know how frustrating the forgetfulness is. It’s not on purpose, but I know it feels that way. I’m really sorry.”

Later, he wrote back:
“Mom you don’t have to be sorry I overreacted. This is my fault not yours.”

That response crushed me, in the best way.

I responded:
“You may have overreacted AND I still didn’t follow through. I should have been clearer about you taking it to Auntie Heid’s. I am still the mom, and I was a flaky mom in that moment. It’s not your fault.”

We ended up texting about Zara. (What did we ever do without her?)

But I kept thinking about his unprompted, authentic response.

Since Briggs was born, I’ve been scared of losing him. Maybe that comes from his long stay in the NICU. Maybe it is just being a parent. More recently, I’ve been scared that my choices, this illness, and my mistakes would push him away.

But in that text, when he showed responsibility, self-awareness, and compassion at 14, I saw what my friend’s mom meant.

I saw the glimmer of the whole person he already is.
And maybe, no matter, that’s something that can never be undone.

I mean, come on - have you ever seen anything sweeter than a snoozin’ Zara Dew?