Time to Fly
Time to Fly
by Sara H., Hungary
Women of the Harvest magazine
I do have a graduating senior for the first time, though definitely not the last. I truly thought I would not be one of those whining moms, their reason for existence gone when their firstborn leaves....
I feel ready, but I still get shivers at odd times: when my eldest asks where we keep the butter, leaves without a coat in the winter.... I wonder how we could be so naive as to think we have adequately prepared him. The ▒thud▓ comes at various times, usually when I am trying to sleep, and I gasp, "His youthful immaturity and (of course) ultimate failure is all MY fault-how could I have been so blind!" Unfortunately, bird nests do not come equipped with bungee cords so we can rope our chicks back in and finish our undone parenting job. It is time for them to fly. I know.
I guess it all boils down to this: I love him, I will miss him, and it will never be the same again. He will not be here to put his arm around me while we walk through Budapest; he won't come up behind me and give me a back rub with his strong man hands; he will not be here to ask me to lie on his bed and talk and pray, or to sing trios with his dad and me. He will not be here to make fun of me, to compliment me, to ask my opinion.... His bigger-than-life exuberance, his catchy enthusiasm, his love of life will not be in our house in quite the same way....
How will our family gracefully weather the huge emptiness of ‘one of us’ leaving? We laugh now; we take every moment to enjoy each other, say the words, or not say the words; we reach out, apologize, touch; we look and really see; we wait; we hush up; we help; we are there. With all we have, we wish him every good thing. We stop and give Ben up to God yet again. He is in the palm of God's hand. He has a future and a hope. It is a new beginning, a reason to celebrate. We love him dearly, but he is not ours-he never was. He belongs to Jesus and always will. It is time to fly, big guy.
by Sara H., Hungary
Women of the Harvest magazine
I do have a graduating senior for the first time, though definitely not the last. I truly thought I would not be one of those whining moms, their reason for existence gone when their firstborn leaves....
I feel ready, but I still get shivers at odd times: when my eldest asks where we keep the butter, leaves without a coat in the winter.... I wonder how we could be so naive as to think we have adequately prepared him. The ▒thud▓ comes at various times, usually when I am trying to sleep, and I gasp, "His youthful immaturity and (of course) ultimate failure is all MY fault-how could I have been so blind!" Unfortunately, bird nests do not come equipped with bungee cords so we can rope our chicks back in and finish our undone parenting job. It is time for them to fly. I know.
I guess it all boils down to this: I love him, I will miss him, and it will never be the same again. He will not be here to put his arm around me while we walk through Budapest; he won't come up behind me and give me a back rub with his strong man hands; he will not be here to ask me to lie on his bed and talk and pray, or to sing trios with his dad and me. He will not be here to make fun of me, to compliment me, to ask my opinion.... His bigger-than-life exuberance, his catchy enthusiasm, his love of life will not be in our house in quite the same way....
How will our family gracefully weather the huge emptiness of ‘one of us’ leaving? We laugh now; we take every moment to enjoy each other, say the words, or not say the words; we reach out, apologize, touch; we look and really see; we wait; we hush up; we help; we are there. With all we have, we wish him every good thing. We stop and give Ben up to God yet again. He is in the palm of God's hand. He has a future and a hope. It is a new beginning, a reason to celebrate. We love him dearly, but he is not ours-he never was. He belongs to Jesus and always will. It is time to fly, big guy.
posted by Kapten Clark at 8:24 PM
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