Well, I don’t want to beat this to death. But I think for me to really, honestly, track this process from the parental standpoint, ok, the mom angle, I’ve gotta just put a quick blip up on blog.
This is hard.
This giving your son to God, it’s kinda hard. Oh yeah, it’s joyous and deep and profound and all that…. But the clear hard fact is that we are saying goodbye for reals, and he is not only moving far away, he’s giving up his worldly life. Which means, learning to detach from us too in many ways. And it means us learning to detach from him. And I type that and feel the hot tears. I hold myself tighter as I blink hard to keep typing, fast, get it out before the flood hits and/or to let me blink even FASTER to push that tide back, again.
And I know, this is all a personal pity party in many ways. It’s all tangled, happy sad proud amazed worried: I am truly deeply tap dancing happy for him as he enters, for this beckoning call, his ability to recognize it and respond. And I know that many a mom has said goodbye to her son to go to war across the world, with legitimate fears for his safety. I get that. Utterly. I mean, I’m sending by son to Cincinnati, for heaven’s sake. Not Afghanistan. The irony is not lost on me. My dork factor and wallowing ability makes duck my head in shame even as I can laugh at the/my stupidity of it all. I know that my fears for his times of lonely and spiritual struggle are something each of us go through, no matter our circumstances in life. Some of the loneliest times can be IN a marriage. So, I cannot protect him from any of it. Nor should I try. And while I want to, I know that I can’t and really, shouldn’t want to because it’s part of the process he, we all, must go through.
But anyhow. I’m bad at goodbyes. We are in the countdown weeks now. And I’m feeling the pressure, brittle, tired, leaky. I can still savor these days and hours with him, and I do. But, another part of me wants to drive him straight up to the Novitiate house right now so I can get him there safely. It feels like battles are afoot. Spiritual battles, even. But that’s a whole ‘nother post and I just heard the few readers I have click away anyhow, because now they know I”m a nutcase.
But, I need to say, for any mom going through this too….it’s amazing but it is hard. And it’s a loaded few weeks ahead. And I’m a bit brittle and holding tight, carrying myself carefully as I walk through these days so I don’t fall to pieces. I’m leaking…feels a bit like the little dutch boy……holding back the dam.