Real Life

Yes, it’s real life.  You imagine things to be one way and it goes the opposite direction. 

I have always been one for keeping it real, so I will do no less here.  Of course with it being our last day with our son, I wanted things to be special.  I envisioned him leaving with nothing but good memories and thoughts.

The majority of the day was busy.  We had to stop by his recruiter’s office so he could make sure our son had all of his documents in order.  Then we drove him to the Military Entrance Processing Station (MEPS) so he could get processed.  Normally you do that the day you get shipped out but apparently there were so many going the next day that they tried to get some in early.

After that I had to take my son to the bank so he could deposit the cash he had in his wallet, a few checks from graduation and get a roll of quarters.  We only had a couple of hours at home before we were back on the road to get him checked into his hotel about 25 minutes from our home.

They preferred he be checked in by 3:30.  But he didn’t have to be back in his room until 9 p.m.  Checking in took about an hour because there was some waiting and debriefing.  So needless to say, there were a lot of errands to run.

The plan was to meet family at Chili’s for dinner.  It was about 20 minutes before we were supposed to leave and my 15-year-old daughter and 13-year-old son started having a stupid argument over a ball. 

I guess I should have immediately recognized it was the looming goodbyes we would be facing.  But I had been up since 3:30 a.m. and was exhausted.  Not only that but I had been holding in my tears all day long.

There were so many moments throughout the day I wanted to cry.  But I didn’t want to do that to my son.

So my kids are arguing and instead of my husband intervening, he jokingly told our son to give them the Vulcan neck pinch.  That, for whatever reason, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

I picked up a dining room chair and slammed it back down, shouting that everyone was ruining the last few hours we have with our son.  That only resulted in an argument between my husband and me. 

We were going back and forth until I finally picked up my purse and threw it.  I told you I was going to keep it real. 

I stormed off downstairs, slamming doors as hard as I could.  After a few minutes my husband came to see if I was ready to go meet our family at the restaurant.

That only made me madder.  I guess I felt like he wasn’t recognizing the pain I was going through and just wanted to move on.

When I came upstairs, my son grabbed me and hugged me close saying, “Its okay mom.”  That was all it took for the tears to finally break through.  I sobbed in my son’s arms.  It was a release that I needed and there was nothing better than to be consoled by him. 

On our way to the restaurant, I felt disappointed at the way things had gone.  But yet I knew my son recognized it was only because we were all in pain.

As if it wasn’t bad enough we had the fight and were running late, there was a miscommunication about which Chili’s we were going to.  My family was waiting at another one several miles away.  So we ended up being half an hour late.

We had a great dinner and then decided that my family saying goodbye to him in the parking lot of a restaurant wouldn’t cut it.  So we drove to my sister’s house and spent about an hour awkwardly talking.

It is never awkward to be with family but it was last night.  There was the knowing in the air that this was the last time we would have my son with us. 

We did share some great memories and laughter.  So it’s not like the entire time was uncomfortable.  However, you could tell everyone was trying to avoid what had to happen…saying goodbye.

It was incredibly painful when we stepped outside and everyone was crying as they hugged my son goodbye.  The last images I had as our car backed out of the driveway and the lights were shining on them is my 17-year-old nephew (who is my son’s best friend and cousin) holding my mom in his arms and my 14-year-old nephew holding my sister in his arms. 

My daughter and son were crying, I was crying.  As we drove him to the hotel, we settled down.  But then we arrived and again the tears flowed.  On the way home I kept thinking to myself how I was going to walk into our house and it would never be the same again. 

Now I face today…the prideful moment of seeing him sworn in and the painful moment of saying goodbye again, only this time he will be boarding a plan and leaving us behind.

Photo above by bb_matt in Flickr

Double Whammy--Empty Nest & Military Mom

What does one do when they have been up since 3:30 a.m.?  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, I cleaned the kitchen, folded laundry and picked up the house.  I guess I might as well be productive as I think about what is ahead.

 It is the day I have to leave my son at a hotel.  Thankfully it isn’t too far from where we live but it is that initial step into what I believe is a double whammy.  I will be learning to adjust to this new season where my firstborn child has left the nest.  But I will also be dealing with the emotional rollercoaster of being a military mom.

Despite the many years of taking care of three children, I will no longer be responsible for one.  Although it should feel like my parenting load has been lightened, there is still a sense of sadness over it.

I can’t help but think about how in a few weeks, I won’t have to wake him up for school. 

I won’t have to ask if he finished his homework, has clean clothes to wear or what his plans for the weekend are. 

Although I will always be the mom of three children, I am now responsible for just two.

So the fact that he will no longer be living in our home is difficult enough.  But adding to that, there is the uncertain future of his career in the military.

There is having to deal with the next eight weeks, with no control over my contact with him.  I won’t be there to rescue him from the training instructors who are screaming in his face. 

I won’t be able to comfort him in his darkest hour.  I won’t be able to give him a hug or kiss on the head.

But I will always have my phone by my side, praying for that phone call to come through.  Or I will be checking my mailbox each day, hoping to see a letter. 

There will be the countdown until I can see him again after he graduates.  But then knowing it will be another goodbye as he starts technical school and then the unknown of where he will end up—possibly stateside or overseas.

No matter what the circumstances are when our kids leave home, they end up maturing and changing.  But his pace will be much quicker.  He will be remade by the United
States Air Force.

The young man I say goodbye to at the airport tomorrow will not be the same one I see again in eight weeks.  He will be an Airman.

Yes, it is a double whammy for this mom.  My firstborn child is not only leaving the nest but he is about to embark on a journey that will require bravery unlike anything most of us could imagine.

Photo above by Kilarin in Flickr

The Comfort of Prayers

A lot of lasts are being experienced…such as today.  My son’s last Sunday morning church service before leaving.  I could tell it was impacting him because of his unusual quietness. 

He has been raised in our church.  It is what he has known since he was just learning to talk. 

He has attended Sunday school since he was young, was then brought up in kid’s church during his elementary years and this past Wednesday was his last time of attending youth group.  Faith has been foundational to our family. 

Our church has always been great about honoring our servicemen and women.  Every 4^th of July they put together a very moving and special service.  The focus is always on the freedoms of our nation.

But they also present the flags for each military branch and then have those who served in the past come to the front of our church so they can be recognized.  Everyone in the congregation stands up and claps for several minutes. 

It is always moving to see those who have served our country be honored.  And this past July, I was thinking about how next year our son’s picture will be up on the screen, as they show pictures of those in our congregation who are currently serving.

So this morning our Pastor said that everyone should remain standing, as he called our son up to the front.  He mentioned how he will be leaving Tuesday for basic training and that he has a job in security forces. 

He then asked our family to also come up, followed by those who have previously served so they could gather around us and pray.  I tried my hardest to hold it together but the tears flowed as our Pastor prayed for his safety and that his faith would remain strong. 

When he was done praying, those who had previously served congratulated him and patted him on the back or shook his hand.  It was definitely a challenge to focus on the rest of the service.

I was so grateful for the sendoff.  I know that many people will continue to pray for him.  It gives me such comfort.

Photo by mmagallan in stock.xchng

Strength I Didn't Know I Had

(Sendoff party--my children)

I am just a couple of days from sending my son off to basic training.  Monday night he will be staying at a hotel not too far from home.  Then Tuesday morning he will be sworn in and on his way to the Air Force base in Lackland, Texas.

To my surprise, I have been handling the past few days much better than I would have thought.  I think it’s a combination of things.  I had some distractions come my way with one of my other children and I have been kept busy helping out all week at a Music & Drama Camp at my church.

Busyness and distractions are one way to get your mind off things.  But so is strength, which is something I have been feeling lately.

It’s a strength I don’t think I realized I had.  Of course, I believe that is a result of my faith and the prayers of others.

There have been a number of things I have managed to do without losing it.  For instance, my son was talking the other night about how as of Monday he will “officially” be an adult because he will have to make all of his decisions without my help or input. 

He was also thinking about the little time we have left together because of things going on this weekend.  So even though I was busy Friday at church, he wanted to come with me. 

Some of the time he spent hanging out with a friend but most of it he was just by my side.  I could tell he was trying to get in his “mom” time.

Then we went to Walmart and walked the aisles, with me telling him to get whatever he wants because it may be a long time before he enjoys his favorite cereal, cookies or whatever else it was.  He picked out a few things.

We ended last night with a get together at my dad and stepmom’s house.  My father served in the Air Force, so this is an especially proud moment for him.  I managed to hold it together, despite knowing what the occasion was about…seeing him off.

And this morning I was going through his final packing list and figuring out what still needs to be done.  To my surprise, I didn’t cry. 

Maybe the tears are being saved for later…all I know is that I feel like I need to be strong right now for him.  I don’t want to make him feel bad about leaving, especially with the nerves starting to hit him.

Isaiah 41:10 fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Cloud of Sadness

I feel a heavy sadness over me today.  I’m sure it doesn’t help that I have been up since 3:30 a.m. (as a lack of sleep tends to play with your emotions).  But thoughts of my son wouldn’t let me rest.

It is just over a week before he leaves.  Since learning of his leave date not that long ago, it seems the days have been quickly turning from one into another.  I hardly get a chance to enjoy one day and the next one quickly comes along.

Suddenly time seems so cruel.

Today we had a little get together at a friend’s house, with family.  It was a chance to be together, to spend time with my son before he leaves.  But there was a cloud of sadness that hovered above us.

It is hard to say goodbye.  I know that some would say it’s not really saying goodbye, that its saying see you later. 

But to me it has a sense of permanency in the fact that I know the boy who stands me before now will not be the same when I see him after basic training.  I anticipate he will have a lot more confidence and he will have grown up a whole lot.

Almost as painful as it is sending him off, it stings just as much to see others hurting…family and friends who care about him.  They cry, I cry.  They hurt, I hurt.  Because I know their pain, perhaps a little deeper being his mom—but I definitely know their pain.

What scares me is facing next week.  If it hurts this much now, how in the world will I make it once he is actually gone?

I once heard that it’s a fallacy, that time heals all wounds.  Time isn’t the comfort I need.  It certainly won’t make things better.

It is my faith in God and the support of family and friends that will help.  And it’s also knowing that as painful as this, it is the right plan for my son’s life.    

(Photo above from stock.xchng)

Cereal Bowl Sadness

Today has been a sad day for me.  Not only because it is the two week mark for when my son leaves but he is cleaning out his room.

I came upstairs where my 13-year-old son was playing video games in the living room and noticed a pile of magazines near by.  I asked what they were and he said that his brother (the one going into the Air Force) had given them to him. 

It was all his past issues of “Game Informer,” a magazine put out by Game Stop.  I looked at the pile and sighed.  He is giving things away…

Then I heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner coming from upstairs where my son’s bedroom is.  I went up there to see he had started a pile in the hallway outside of his room.  He was more than just cleaning, he was getting rid of some things and keeping others.

I should have been happy.  His room has been a pigsty for a long time.  He’s had this collection of used plastic cups going on that could probably fill a garbage bag.

But for some reason the sight of him cleaning only made me sad.  He is preparing.  His way of “nesting,” I guess you could say.

I had just said to him yesterday that there is only one thing I won’t miss when he leaves.  It is the fact that we never have clean bowls. 

My son eats cereal several times a day.  I think he could actually live on it.  But he never brings the bowls down and so eventually I have to go up there, maneuvering my way through the piles of stuff on his floor to retrieve the bowls and spoons.

Then I’m irritated because the cereal is caked on and I have to either scrub it off or let the bowls soak in hot water.  Funny how yesterday I thought I wouldn’t miss those missing bowls and now that he has them piled up and ready to go downstairs, I suddenly don’t mind.

Of course, then the thought occurs that when he does come home for leave, he will more than likely never leave another cereal bowl upstairs.  The Air Force will train him to keep things neat and orderly. 

Who would have thought that a boy cleaning his bedroom and the thought of cereal bowls could make a mom sad? 

The Ups and Downs

I’ve been feeling a little schizophrenic lately.  One day I am up, thinking about how proud I am of my son and his desire to serve his country.

I think about how proud I am of his decision to join what I believe is the best military branch to be in (no disrespect to the others but I am very partial to the Air Force as my father also served in it).  I feel up as I think about his integrity, his good character and the joy he brings to my life.

I can feel this way for a few hours at a time or even a day.  But then suddenly I am back down.   

I think about saying goodbye.  I think about the separation.  I think about the unknown.  I think about the dangers. 

So one minute mom is a happy lady and the next she is sad and quiet.  And then there are the moments where I am just plain irritable. 

Sometimes my family doesn’t know which “me” they are going to get.  Of course, a lot of it depends on how much sleep I manage to squeeze in…which hasn’t been much lately.  That tends to play into my emotions and reactions as well. 

I wonder if I will ever get back to a time where sleep comes easily.  But how can it when I am counting down the days until he leaves? 

By the way, it’s 18 days in case you were wondering… 

So he leaves and then what?  I will be sad because he’s gone, so how will I sleep?  I will get to go see him at graduation but then probably think about the fact I only have a few days with him and it will be goodbye again.  And I will be right back to where I was… 

And I haven’t even touched on what happens if he is deployed and all of that. 

I try really hard to not look to the future because today is certainly bringing enough troubles of its own.  But it’s hard not to.  

Thankfully I have a patient family who understands.  But I think I need to be a little more patient with myself.  I need to give myself permission to go through the ups and downs.