Despite the pain, love wins

He was grounded; he was mad.  He was grounded; I was mad.  And I was scared.  He had made a bad decision--it turned out fine, but my mind raced with the possibilities of how it could have turned out, well, not fine.  So while I was angry, I was also terrified.  The two of those combined MAY have caused me to over react just a tad.  I mean if you consider my saying, "You are grounded until you get out of high school (two years from now)" over reacting, than yeah I over reacted.  And he said, "I cannot stand this family.  I don't care if you don't pay for my college.  As soon as I'm finished high school I'm leaving home and having nothing to do with any of ya'll ever again."  My heart stopped--literally.

My heart stopped; I stopped breathing and it took every ounce of strength I had not to break into a thousand pieces.  But I did it.  I held it together even as I felt a part of my soul slipping away. Truth, I semi-held it together.  I stopped speaking because I knew if I said anything I would fall apart.  My deepest fear--a fear I didn't even know had this power over me--was not bubbling but rushing to the surface like an out of control mack truck.  So I said nothing hoping that not engaging would make it not true, would make it go away.  We got into the car and drove in silence.

Fifteen minutes later he said, "Mama you know I didn't mean those things I just said.  I was just angry--really angry."  My fear hadn't subsided but I managed to squeak out, "I hope that's true.  I love you."  When we got home I went to my room, buried my head in my pillow and sobbed.  I howled and prayed.  What was happening to me?  He's a 16 year old boy who was mad and said something in anger--why am I so affected?  And then it hit me--I've been through this before.  On some unconscious level this was part of what has motivated me to be the mother I am--to keep my children in relationship with each other and with us.  I knew everyone would leave home one day, but I wanted us to stay close, to continue to share our lives and not to have estrangement, not to have distance.  I have done this before and it hurt.  My little brother distanced himself from our family for almost 20 years...

My little brother, the prince as we lovingly call him--my little brother who I adore, who sent me a dozen yellow roses on my birthday all four years of college--for almost 20 years I barely saw him; I rarely spoke to him and it was a painful hole that even with the joy of my husband and children could never be filled.  I don't want to tell his story about why he distanced himself but I will say part of it was my mother's alcoholism and the impact that had on us all.  And it made me angry. Even though he repeatedly told me that I had done nothing he was just doing what he had to do, it hurt.  He told me that our relationship was collateral damage, but that didn't fill the hole in my heart.  I missed him.   I missed him being a part of my children's lives; I wanted them to know the incredible man I called the prince.  And this grounded boy, well his entire life his mannerisms, his personality, his caring sensitive spirit reminded me over and over of my brother and now he is saying he's leaving the family never to return.  It was like a ground hog day nightmare.  

I left my room and searched for my son.  And as tears streamed down my face I told him.  "I need you to know what I heard when you said those words even though I know you said you didn't mean them."  I told him the story, and I told him, "I don't think I can survive losing another person who is a part of my soul again.  I lost 20 years with your uncle.  I can't stand the thought of losing you.  That's what I heard and it hurt."  

Some may say I have now given him power.  Anytime he wants to hurt me, all he has to do is say those words again.  But I don't believe that.  Do I believe we'll never hurt each other again?  I wish that were true, but when we love we are vulnerable.  When we are vulnerable we intentionally and unintentionally hurt one another.  The words from The Rev. Donald Fishbourne's sermon at our wedding echo in my mind.  The reading was Colossians 3:5-17.  Verse 13 says, "Bear with each other and forgive each other..."  The Fish told Chris and me, "not if you hurt each other but when you hurt each other talk about it.  Make it right."  I believe as we are called to live that way in marriage we are also called to live that way with one another.  Marriage is a sacrament--an outward and visible sign of how we are to live.  The Book of Common Prayer says, "Make their life together a sign of Christ's love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair." (page 429)  Chris and I have tried to live that way; how could I do anything but live that way with my son?

It's been two weeks and the pain has recessed.  The pain has recessed because it was seen and acknowledged.  The truth--telling the truth not hiding sets us free.  I still have four teenagers.  They will still get angry with me; I will still get angry with them.  We will say things we don't mean, but I pray that our communication will stay open, holy and truthful.  I pray we will continue to bear with one another and forgive one another.  And I believe love wins.