So as I wrote my last post, letting go, I was thinking–this is so true on a deeper level than even leaving our little school. It is necessary to let go of our children–from the day they are born almost! We have to let go. Conveniently we start off small, like when they first roll over, sit up, crawl and walk. They are becoming just a little more independent–day by day, week by week. We are excited to watch them grow and do new things! But especially with our first-born perhaps, the joy is bittersweet. Every time my eldest reached a new landmark in his little life, I was pleased as punch and yet there were melancholy moments too. I’m a melancholic person naturally so perhaps it’s just me, but growing up for Jason was always bittersweet for me. Almost a true perceived pain as he got older. Knowing one day I’d have to let him go.
And now here we are, at the eve of his senior year. No longer a little boy, he is a handsome, funny, well-adjusted young man. I guess I can take a little credit for that! Precious little, when I humbly think how it is really God’s work that has made him who he is. I’m just humbled that he has used us. I’m grateful that we have had the opportunity to raise this child for a season. It is hard, but we are slowly having to let go. First day of school wasn’t so hard, since he was homeschooled most of his life. But he did go to school for 18 months when we lived in Germany. And then again in junior high when we had to pause our homeschooling for a season. Jason has never looked back. “Bye, Mom!” he said to me when I was dropping him off at preschool–a temporary solution while his dad was gone with the military and he was driving me crazy:) “Just a minute son, I’m coming in with you!” I called after him. And I did. But I probably didn’t need to.
Jason was ready to live on his own at age 4, and when that didn’t work, he at least thought he could get a cell phone out of us at age 6, during the aforesaid 18 months of schooling in Germany. His teacher was really provoking him and he needed a way to connect with me. We didn’t get the phone. We did pull him out of school several months later and started homeschooling again. And then there was the time we were moving from Germany and he had to leave his best friend, Jonathan. First heartbreak. I remember crying with him because Jonathan’s mom was also my best friend. We made it through.
Hand in hand we’ve walked through deployments and military life, homeschooling, boycotts of my discipline (All 5 Mr. Spoons disappeared at one time and Jason solemnly avowed that he knew nothing whatsoever of the mysterious disappearance), obsessions with Legos, dreams of there being a plexiglass sheath between my hand and his bottom, long walks, Lord of the Rings marathons, hours and hours and hours of reading aloud. Actually I have to say the reading is my favorite part. I love reading aloud to my kids. We have made great memories through countless works of great children’s literature.
And now we are letting go a little more. First airplane ride alone (to visit Jonathan in OK) Not so long ago the driver’s license. And the first job. And the girlfriend. (That was a biggie!) Fast forward– we are at senior year. It is staring us in the face. And as each day goes by, I find that more and more, a glimpse of those early years comes rushing back to make me smile. “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” This will be my motto next spring, when my son receives his high school diploma from our principal, his dad. That diploma is as much for us as for him. We have crossed the finish line. Our relationship transitions even more from parent to advisor/friend. College is around the corner.
I’m afraid. Afraid we have failed him in some area. Afraid he’s not ready and won’t be able to get himself out of bed to make it to class:) Afraid of not seeing him every day. Of not hearing his voice. I know he’s only moving to Longview–not Jupiter. But it will never be the same. He’s walking out of our lives. I know it has to be this way. But that doesn’t make it easy. And yet it was designed by God to be this way and so I will trust. Trust that He loves Jason infinitely more than we do. And trust that His love will make all things right. We can’t be there but He will never leave him.
And that definitely comforts me.
Decidedly Different 