>A Mom, Moving Out of the Way
>I have been longing to write. I carry with me at all times a story in my head. A lot of times I have the desire to write about these things but I just don’t. Sometimes I think they are things that shouldn’t be talked about, let alone written about or just aren’t profound enough….I have a blog, therefore every entry must be the great American novel right? Writing is so healing for me, the truth is I just don’t do it. Plain and simple. I don’t take the time to get all these things floating around in my head OUT! There are tons of things in my life to write that great American novel….really, I totally could! The thing is, I need to speak the truth. I need to stop hiding and pretending. Trying to gloss things over like my life and my head and heart don’t hurt. I am getting older and the thing is, I just don’t care anymore about what someone “might” think of me. There are things in my life right now that hurt so bad that I sometimes think my heart may break into a thousand pieces. And thanks be to God I have so many other things that hold that heart of mine from exploding from the pain. I have a goal set for myself this year that I will write. not something beautiful, poetic, or profound. Just write! It centers me. It gives me clarity. It wipes away the muddiness of life and makes so many things clear again. I have to find a way for me to speak my truth. To truly be set free by it. To live my life as transparently as possible.
My first child, a blond haired, blue eyed boy is dying. He wasn’t diagnosed with a terminal illness. He has decided this himself. To lose him suddenly would be horrible, painful, gut-wrenching. But I believe that what he is doing now is even worse. I get to watch him kill himself right. In. Front. Of. Me. He is on drugs pretty heavily. According to him he is selling them too. I get to watch all of this with descriptions and daily pictures via facebook. My new obsession is to go to his page and see and hear about his daily destruction. Everyone I know tells me not to. Go there. And yet I am pulled. That invisible umbilical cord forces me there. To watch him die or at least watch him ruin his life. In color. He called me two days before Christmas, like I knew he would. We hadn’t talked in about two months. But there he was, ready to do Christmas! I said no. No Christmas with me. No presents. No dinner. I just couldn’t pretend. have him show up for an hour, get his loot, and then go back to his side of the world. Not to call until the next holiday that nets presents. It hurt. I got him nothing. I didn’t see him. The little boy that I stayed up wrapping gifts for until 2am on many Christmas Eves. Many people would say I made the wrong choice but I think it was the right one for me. I felt relief. There was no discomfort that day. I celebrated with family and friends. I was happy! I still remember that boy though. He had blue footy pajamas. I bought them at Sears. I have to let him have his journey. His angels. His God. I am moving over to let that happen. I don’t have to be there while they do their job. I told him I love him and will continue to pray for him. I just can’t be around him now. I can’t continue to watch. I have a life that is wonderful right now that I have to live! That may sound selfish but it took me a long time to get here but I am HOME! I hope that he can come home one day as well. I have had to learn over the last year and a half that it was a kay for me to move on. To be happy. That just because a child of mine is lost, that I don’t have to be as well. I have a daughter who at 17 is an amazing, wonderful child. She brings me much joy. My partner loves me more than I have ever been love before. We are planning our wedding. We are putting down roots in our first home. We have wonderful jobs, good health. I am growing somewhat….struggling spiritually but am getting there. At least there is growth happening, even if it is slow and sporadic at times.
So I was selfish. I had to be. I will pray. I will love. And I will let his God take care of him. And I will keep reminding myself that it is ok to be happy. Even with a child lost, I don’t have to be. And maybe, just maybe, that is the best thing I can do for BOTH of my children.
