Oh, where have you gone
Billy Boy, Billy Boy
Oh, where have you gone
Charming Billy
I have gone to see my wife
She's the joy of my life
She's a young thing
And cannot leave her mother
This is a song that my mother would sing to my Sweet Billy when he was little. To this day, at age 10, he still loves when I sing him this song.
I was talking to a long-distance friend recently. The subject, of course, came around to my kids (she has none). I got to talking about my son.
I went on and on about all he's been doing, how he's doing in school, what sports he's playing ... and then I found myself going into great depth about how much I love him.
I couldn't stop describing what a wonderful little boy he really is. How special he is to me and how he lights up my life. How he has the cutest ways about him and how he reminds me so much of his father.
When I spoke of him, I could see his sweetness in my mind and feel the gentleness of who he is and I tried desperately to describe all this accurately.
He tries to act tough and disconnected sometimes. Tries to let on to the world that he is fine all of the time. Tries to go along as though he is in control and has no worries. And mostly ... I think this is true.
I love this about him.
But ... I know him. I know the little boy behind all the ball caps, dirty t-shirts and skinned up knees. That little boy behind the constant motion. That little boy that never seems to have the time to stop and show the depth of his emotions.
I love that little boy that is too busy to tell the world how special he really is. The one that is so confident that he just doesn't find it necessary to list his qualities or voice his inner desires or needs. The little boy with the humble heart and kind nature. I love that he seems to know who he is and is not concerned about what the world thinks of him. I love the way he lives his life.
On Christmas Eve, I went into his room to kiss him good night and when I bent over near his face he asked me, in the sweetest and most sincere voice,"Have I been a good boy?"
I loved that he asked this question because it gave me the chance to tell him that he is a good boy and that I couldn't have ever hoped for a more precious son. It was a wonderful moment.
When I think of him now ... I see his sweet little face, soft brown eyes and dark brown hair (what a head of hair). I see his dirty little hands and his skinny legs. I see those teeth that are too big for his smile. I see the smirk he so often gets when he has done something wrong. And I see ... a little boy that brings great joy to my heart, indescribable warmth to my soul and a love so pure that ... I wouldn't know how to live without it.