Last week I couldn't say anything right.....
It all started one morning. For four years SK has been up and out the door by 6:45 in order to be at school early so that she is prepared (and I suspect to socialize). Over the last several weeks, she has been getting up a little bit later each morning. This particular morning she didn't get up until 6:55 and as she was walking out the door at 7:10 I said, "I guess this is your form of the senior slide." Everything stopped and then went to what felt like slow motion as she whipped around with a look of horror on her face and said, "Do you think I am slack? I just slept a little later, I'm not sliding." Action went back to regular motion or even high speed as she stormed out of the house.
The next evening she came home with her cap and gown. As she put it on I bit my tongue to the point of it bleeding. I really wanted this to be celebratory and not about the hollow place in my heart that is enlarging with every passing day that brings us closer to her leaving for college. She put it on and looked at me expectantly. I swallowed hard and knew I had to say something; I went with humor to prevent the tears that were stinging my eyes from cascading down onto the kitchen floor and creating another flood requiring six months of renovations. SK, "You're going to cry aren't you?" Me, "No, I just don't see why they're white. I've never seen white graduation robes. It's not like you're getting married." (Which may or may not be true; honestly I can't remember.) Look of horror on her face again, "I can't believe you! What's wrong with white. That's why I need a white dress. I've TOLD you!" Now I'm smart but clearly not that smart. Her emotions were spinning out of control and I decided to continue with humor--as though that had worked in the last few minutes. So, I held up 3 fingers. I've been doing this for 9 months. Every time we start to get into a little spat I hold up my fingers as to how many months until she leaves. It used to make her laugh and diffuse the situation. I guess now that we're counting on only one hand it's no longer funny. Actually I don't guess, I know because she ran from the room crying and telling me how horrible I was and she couldn't believe I was happy she was leaving soon. At this point the boyfriend who is not the boyfriend tried to speak up, "I think your mom was just kidding. You don't need to yell." Now I know he was trying to help, but I predict this statement is just one of many that's going to continue to highlight the "not the boyfriend" part of his title.
I've been thinking a lot about last week, this week, and the weeks to come. It's an emotional time for everyone and in different ways. I realize that perhaps the best way to help SK through it is to stay silent and just be present. As much as I want to, I can't stop the emotions that are going to continue to flood her heart and soul. I can't make the conflicting feelings easier to understand, but I can be there in the background to listen and to watch her grow through it. I can acknowledge the feelings and acknowledge the power, the strength and the goodness in the feelings even when it feels so horrible in the moment. I suspect my silence may feel, at times, like abandonment, but it's not. As I have prayed and journaled and cried and talked to my therapist trying to figure out how to navigate this time, I realize that silence isn't about abandonment or absence. Sometimes silence is about allowing, promoting, growth and maturity and movement towards our whole selves.
I have thought back on the times I felt that God was silent, times I felt abandoned and I realize that those times of silence were actually some of the most spiritual times of my life. Those were times I have grown and matured, and I know God didn't and doesn't abandon me or anyone. God is always present allowing us the space to grow, allowing us the space to discover that we are stronger than we know. But God never abandons us. I believe God sheds tears with us as we cry, but I also believe God loves us enough to let us live into who we are called and created to be even knowing there will be times of pain. These are feelings so many experience. Scripture is full of times people felt the silence of God as abandonment and yet continued to have faith; continued to grow. (Psalm 22; Psalm 35:22, Job)
I pray that as we move through these next few weeks God gives me the strength to remain silent and present even as my tears flow.
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