Essence

"I want to do that. By myself."

He's pointing up, way up. It's a high ropes course at an amusement-park-type place where teenaged employees attach harnesses and belts and carabiners and people's most loved ones climb up to the heights to discover the abject fear of walking a tightrope, even knowing they are safely (how exactly very safely?) tethered to a wire overhead.

He is seven. Wiry and redheaded, grown-up teeth filling his mouth, bright blue eyes and a splay of freckles across his nose. And he wants to go up there. By himself.

"OK," I say. It is, after all, date night with mom. He's already been thrilled and a little awed at the chance to drive a go-kart, standing at full height to meet the requirement. He rode as a passenger in my bigger, faster go-kart, and we laughed and whooped as I tried, against all my Momma instincts, to drive just the tiniest bit recklessly to thrill my small passenger. And now he wants to go up there. By himself. And it's date night, and I try not to say no to much on date night.

Up he goes, harnessed and carabined, confidently ascending the stairs into the sky.

Then at the top, he sees. He's up there, really high. He can choose to walk a tightrope, or a swinging bridge, or some far-apart boards, and there's nothing to hold onto, really. I am watching my boy intently from down below. I see the fear take him by surprise. I feel the fear with him. But he's up there, and I'm down below, and this moment belongs entirely to him.

He looks at me, hesitates the briefest of seconds, and then he steps out. He walks. He balances. He does one, two, three different passes across various impossible challenges. The whole situation is designed to be terrifying, and he's afraid; my small boy is not the reckless type, but there he is, all by himself, and he keeps on going. Courage. I look up and I see redheaded, freckled courage.

Eventually, to my relief, he descends the stairs. Back on the ground. Untethered and smiling. He's at least an inch taller. And I, privileged Momma that I am, am honored to have had that glimpse of him, of the strength of his arms and legs and his mind and heart, from down below.