I don't know how this happened...

But I couldn’t be more pleased that it did. It honestly doesn’t seem that long ago that a doctor at Mercy Hospital cut me open and introduced me to my son Jesse, slightly less than eight pounds of screaming, wriggling flesh. I’ve fed him, bathed him, changed him, played with him, and done everything else a mother must do to raise a young boy.

Now, Jesse is 15 years old, rambunctious, always hungry, and always looking for something to do to entertain himself. This past weekend, he and I traveled with a mother/daughter duo of friends to Monterey for a music festival at Laguna Seca raceway.

It was the first time in a good long while that Jesse and I have found ourselves outside of the constant grind of things to do, behaviors to change, places to be, and distractions to be endured, which constitute our lovely, chaotic life. Against the backdrop of the Monterey Peninsula, the boy and I had time to really connect; unfettered and footloose.

At one point, both of us, burned out by too much sun, too much grit, too much screeching guitar, and too much proselytizing, snuck off to the beach. While combing the streets of Carmel for a parking space, my son opened himself up, like this wonderful, beautiful, unexpected gift.

I learned some interesting things about his views on theology. I experienced his truly deep humor. The kid is funny. I mean really, really funny.

At the beach, I watched with longing as he trounced out into the ocean waves. I longed to be with him, but I was held back by my job as sentry over the family jewels-- camera, money, car keys, etc. I watched in awe as I realized that he has become an impressive swimmer, far from the little boy once frightened by even the sea foam that languishes on the beach.

I took a picture of him when he first got into the water. He is no longer the little Campbell’s Soup baby I once held in my arms, his cherubic cheek next to mine. At almost six feet tall, everything about him has grown outside of my already high expectations of him. His attire, the crocheted cap the colors of the Jamaican flag, the orange aviator glasses, and the “Pornography is for Posers” T-Shirt, all speak to someone who is determined to find their own road, and enjoy it every step of the way.

Later in the evening, we had this strange role reversal. After fifteen years of always being the beacon, the protector, the planner, and the leader, Jesse instead led me through the tangled mass of 5,000 bodies jumping and moshing to the sounds of The News Boys. We danced and screamed until the end of the show. It was more fun than I can remember having in a very long time.

I watched curiously as he patiently and succinctly explained to people what his Pornography is for Posers T-shirt means. I watched as he chatted with strangers about insignificant things. He used to be so shy. Now, there is not one shy bone in his body.

It is truly awesome to find such an amazing creature in my midst.