Before my boys were born, I read about the importance of bonding. Without it, I could risk scarring them for life.

I have to admit, the first few weeks of carrying around my first son, an 8lb 7oz bundle for hours every day, I thought, “This bonding is a lot of work!”  Then I thought, “Hey, at eighteen, he’s out of here.  All that bonding, poof!”

Will my cutie-pie crush last?

Fast-forward twenty years, my two boys attend the same university when my freshman got really sick. He called me almost every day. “Should I go to the doctor yet?” I couldn’t check for a fever, forehead to forehead. I couldn’t shine a flashlight at his gaping mouth, looking for angry redness on his throat. I gave in. “Well, if it will give you peace of mind.”

He was really sick. Strep. I kicked into mom mode.

“Drink tea. Do you have a hotpot?”

“No.”

I suggested his brother, living in a nearby apartment, get a hotpot.

“Mom, he’s not going to like that.”

Hearing the strain and near tears in his voice, I could feel every strand of that bond built 19 years ago. I could feel it in my bones, achy like the flu and he was five hundred miles away.

What could I do? Maybe the fancy drugstore near campus would have a hotpot. After all, they carry desk fans, artisan chocolate and ibuprofen. I called. YES! Two were in stock.

I dialed my super sick son.

“Hey, can you walk a half mile to the fancy drugstore?”

“Mom, I can barely walk up the stairs to my dorm!”

“Let me work on your brother.”

I clicked over to my older son.

“Can you please help your brother?”

“Mom! I’m about to play a gig. I can’t.”

“After?”

“Why is this my problem?”

“I’ll pay you $20.”

“Deal.”

My bones still ached until I could confirm the goods were delivered.

I texted my super sick son.

“Hey, did you get all the stuff?”

“Yes. It was really nice.”

“I feel better. You know when you are sick, it’ like I’m sick too.”

“I’m glad you feel better.”

The mom bond is real. I know, I can feel it in my bones.

Happy Mother’s Day!