Thoughts: On Letting Go, and Love

Having written that sometimes I overwork to avoid a painful feeling or issue, I had an insight earlier this week, aided by a dream.

In the dream my son and I are visiting friends from my previous church.  We somehow end up at his high school on a day when there is no school.  It may be a graduation day, it has that festive feel.  We wander around, companionable as we usually are.  Then he sees some friends across this field. He hails them and goes to join them, without saying good bye. I stand at the fence watching him go. The sun is setting. End of dream.

I started seminary, newly single, when he was four years old.  This summer he turns 16 and starts driving.  Next fall he enters his junior year and college search.  As close as we have been as single mom and only child, his friends are becoming more important to him. This is natural and normal, healthy and good.  It must happen.

Although I would never hold him back, as he crosses the field and I stand at the fence, I can still feel his three year old hand in mine.  I can still see his thoughtful child face.  It's like part of him is standing there with me - my memories of him.  Things are changing.  I am grieving.  So this week I made some time for tears and letting go.

Meditations led me to see that though I have been the Mom Who Holds On - advocating for him (he has some learning disabilities). I now need to become the Mom Who Lets Go.  I told him about the dream, today, and said some kids and parents manage this transition by fighting a lot.  I said let's do it differently.  I said, "Instead why don't you tell me if I'm holding on too much, and also tell me if I'm letting go too soon."  He said he'd grab me if I did the latter.  He's a great kid.

Today I saw my therapist and my spiritual director.  I'd planned to go dancing but checking in with my heart realized I wanted to come home, have a few precious hours alone until he comes back from visiting his dad.  I sat outside, a weekly ritual of letting go of my work week and entering sabbath time.  I became quiet enough to hear the rheumatic groan of the late winter trees.  A storm is blowing up.  The sky is cloudy, reflecting the lights of the town.  A rosy glow.  There's a poem brewing here.  Tomorrow I will sleep in, make pancakes and sausage for breakfast, lie around.  If the weather is not too bad I'll go to a dance tomorrow night - I like it better.  It's smaller and friendlier.

Though tired today I pushed through and finished my sermon in order to have two work-free days.  My son will be here, but I will have some alone time while he sleeps late, and when he spends time with friends. In Romans 8:24 Paul writes, "who hopes for what can be seen?"  I cannot see from here what the next phase of my life will be, but another revelation this week has been that what I hope for most is love.  All types of love.

Enough for tonight.  I will try to have two screen-free days, spent enjoying time alone and time with my son.  Hoping.

Week one:  Averaging 8-9 hours of sleep each night - somewhat interrupted, at times.   Worked long hours but feel full.  This can be such fulfilling work.  Better nutrition.  Some exercise.  Friend time tomorrow.

Assessment: Lots of work time but decent sleep.  Time to sit and think each morning.  Good week. B+.

Appraisal:  Tired but feeling full.  Looking forward to down time.