When my oldest son, Aaron, was in high school, he planned to attend a Christian contemporary concert with his church youth group. To my amazement, he invited me to join him, knowing I liked one of the performers. I accepted, but as the date neared, I hesitated. My youngest son, who has Down syndrome and heart disease, had been ill, and I was worried. My husband encouraged me to go, assuring me he could handle things. I wavered.
Then it hit me. Aaron was sixteen. How many more chances would I have for fun with him before college? How many teens invite their mom to a concert meant for them? The decision was clear: I wouldn't miss this opportunity.
At the concert, I sat with Aaron and his girlfriend in the third row, stuffing cotton in my ears against the loud music. I stood and clapped with the kids, hiding my nervousness as the floor vibrated. Aaron and his friends were amused by my enthusiasm.
Leaving, my ears rang and sounds seemed muffled, but it passed quickly. So did Aaron's teenage years. Soon he was off to college, and I missed him terribly. On lonely days, I'd think back to that concert and be thankful I seized that chance to be with him.
Aaron is now grown with his own family, but we remain close. He sometimes calls just to chat, and I treasure those moments, knowing they too will pass. We still reminisce about that concert, a lifetime memory. Aaron always laughs that his mom was the only one in the whole group to get the performer's autograph.