The Pablo Diaries

Today, I received a message from my son that stopped me in my tracks. At first glance, it might seem like a typical note from a young adult missing home. But to me, it was so much more—it was confirmation of something my husband and I have spent much of our lives working to build.

He wrote:

“Ngl, I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I miss NYC, and maybe I want to live with Mama (grandma) because of her really nice house, since we’ve been stuck in the same, old, cramped house. But it is quite lonely out here. This isn’t a final decision, but I’m thinking of staying with y’all (Mom and Dad) until I have enough money to move into my own place, whether it’s in NYC or Florida. But that’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

At face value, it’s a young person weighing options. But as a parent, I saw something much deeper: my son acknowledging the environment we’ve intentionally created over the years—a home that feels safe, comforting, and full of love. A place so grounding that, even as he begins to shape his independence, he still finds solace and strength in our presence.

Florida may offer sunshine, space, and new experiences. But home isn’t about the location. It isn’t about the size of the house or the view from the window. Home is about heart. And in his message, what my son was truly saying was this:

“Home is wherever my mom and dad are—until I’m ready to spread my wings and fly on my own.”

I know some parents believe that once a child turns 18, it’s time to push them out, time to sink or swim. That may work for others, but not for us. I remember what it felt like to navigate adulthood without a safety net. I know how hard it was to constantly live in fight-or flight mode, scrambling to make ends meet while still trying to figure out who I was. And I refuse to pass that struggle down to my children. Instead, I want to give them what I didn’t have: the space to breathe, to dream, to try, to fail, and to try again. I want them to feel free enough to explore different jobs, different passions, and different paths without the crushing weight of fear holding them back.

Do I have all the answers? No, I don’t. But what I do have is the unwavering determination to grow, to do better, and to lay a foundation strong enough for my children—and, one day, their children—to build upon. A foundation that empowers them to dream bigger, reach higher, and walk through life with greater freedom.

When I read my son’s message, it was more than just words on a screen. It was his way of saying, “Thank you, Mom and Dad.” A silent embrace that spoke volumes to my heart.

Let me be clear: I will never stop showing up for my children. Not now. Not ever. If the day comes when they say, “Mom, I need help with the kids,” I’ll be there—just as I know my husband will be. If life becomes overwhelming, and the weight of depression makes even the dishes feel impossible, we’ll show up, roll up our sleeves, and help carry the load. That’s what parenting means to us—being present, consistently and unconditionally.

We often talk about “doing better.” Well, this is what doing better looks like. It means loving our children through every stage of life—not just childhood, but adulthood, too. It means choosing compassion over criticism, support over abandonment, and presence over absence.

That’s the standard. Point blank. Period.

Stay blessed.