Bitterness was sweetened... (December, 17)

---

Bitterness was sweetened... 
   I had a quarrel with my eldest son several days ago. It was really nothing to be mad about, but in the morning when the quarrel arose, we were already agitated,  both of us having a lot of other problems to solve. Only one spark was needed to cause an explosion. The only thing that I did was to mention that I didn't like the way he was talking from behind me. That was enough for us to start yelling at each other. After that my son left the house, slamming the door. 
   When I returned home in the evening, I found out that he hadn't returned home yet. I thought that he might had his part time job after his school, so he probably would return home after 11 pm. I wanted to talk to him again and soothe our feelings. However, even at midnight he didn't come home. I had already started to worry when I remembered him saying to me several days ago about his small research trip to the north with his school group, where they were planning on staying overnight. 
   Finally I slept, hoping that he would return soon on the next day. When the next day came I felt something good in the air. Despite the cold and windy weather, it was a feeling that everything was going to work out the best way. I went to my school, spent a plain day there and returned home. 
  My son came home right after my arrival, looking very happy and well rested. He said that his trip was interesting, they did some social research in the area,  and finally they went to the biggest Okinawan sweets store. He bought plenty of sweets to bring home. 
   The first thing he said to me, while giving me a big colorful box, was that he was sorry about our quarrel and that he wanted to buy something sweet for me to make me feel better. Even knowing his secret motives to put me on his good side again, I still felt happy. 
   It was plain happiness without accepting or denying things which caused our disagreement. Sometimes it's so hard to be a mom of a grown-up son. If I could, I would hold him in my arms, kiss him, and stroke his hair, like I used to do when he was my sweet little baby, and all the problems could be solved that way. But with a boy of age, it’s not so easy to express to him my feelings, both bitter and sweet.