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Bigger than this
I tossed and turned last night. I wanted to keep reading a book I was so close to finishing, but it was way past my bedtime. I begrudgingly shut off the lights and closed my eyes.
Deep in thought, couldn’t get comfortable – dog (of course) was staring at me. I flopped about like a fish on the deck of a boat.
Then from nowhere (in mid-flop), bigger than my irritation at not finding sleep, a sense of assurance. A voice. I was being given answers to questions I wasn’t asking. I was not being ‘still’ but I was knowing God.
“Yes, there is more than this” “Look for the bigger picture” “Find me”.
There were words and shame on me for paraphrasing whoever was speaking, but … how to explain? It was more of a feeling than a dialogue, although, there were words. I’m conveying here the gist of those words.
Almost felt like whatever was ‘talking’ to me was lovingly chuckling. The way we might as we watch a toddler try to accomplish something the hard way because they don’t know better. Or because the item is too big for them.
There were no other prerequisites other than ‘getting’ that there was ‘more’.
PHEW! Because I am of no particular religion, I consider myself ‘spiritual’. I believe in a power greater than me and I believe in love. That’s about all I can swear on my life that I believe to be true for me. I don’t want to fake a Faith in something so important just because I’m afraid to go to hell.
Now, whether that was God, or some internal, wise facet of myself speaking, (although, I don’t know what the heck she was doing up past our bedtime) it was very clear that I needed to hear that message.
This morning, I was peering into my pantry and my eyes took in the canned goods. I saw my pantry in a different light. A dimmer light that I knew not so very long ago. The thought of being jobless crossed my mind out of the blue and suddenly, the cans didn’t seem like enough. I was meting out meals in my head.
On the drive to work, I was taking in the buildings, the cars, an emergency vehicle approached, lights flashing and sirens screaming – another voice. “This is not what it’s all about’.
Another assurance there’s more. This time here – important and valuable, but a place we’re passing through to get to another destination none the less.
Why these thoughts??
Either I’m losing that final marble or …
I know I have an overactive imagination (or do I? ‘ Who’s to say?). I had a vision as I started my drive to work this morning of being very sick. Alone. Nic a young adult and I was dying. Going to work anyway.
I wasn’t in a somber mood – no idea why such a morbid thought would play itself out in my head.
The other night had my mind playing out my death-bed scene. Nic asks if I’m afraid to die. I tell him no. “I’m not afraid to die, I’m afraid I’m going to miss you!”
And that’s it in a nut shell for me. The good times here are SO good. I am SO glad I was born. I love the colours, the sounds, the creatures, the smells, the endless things to discover and I love dreaming and loving and laughing.
And there’s something bigger than THIS? I’m in.
Writers Remorse
I’ve been pretty careful about skirting around some issues for the purpose of respecting people in my life – or protecting people in my life. This has been a little frustrating, but par for the course of ‘going public’ with my blog.
Originally I wanted a spot I could write anonymously (other than my journal). A venue where I didn’t have to edit myself. I had hoped to share and help others with some issues I haven’t addressed yet. It is what it is though, and I do have to edit myself.
Yesterday, after my post about my son I felt pretty rotten. I shared my concerns with a writer friend who told me not to edit it – to stick with what my gut told me to write.
And he was right. I wrote from my heart and from the place I was in right that second.
So consider this an amendment of sorts.
My son is kind-hearted, funny, loving, intelligent, and good.
My frustrations yesterday had to be looked at. Examined. Because the fact that I was having a physical reaction to something that wasn’t even intended to piss me off, definitely deserves to be contemplated.
If I have learned anything in the past few years, it’s that most emotions stem from fear.
I am scared.
I am fearful that I haven’t done enough, taught enough, instilled enough and the clock is ticking on my sons childhood.
He will be 18 in March of next year.
I want him to say ‘thank you’ when people do kind things for him. I want him to see someone obviously up to their elbows in work and offer a helping hand. I want him to be aware of his surroundings and make sensible choices. I want my son to know and show gratitude.
I can want these things for him until I’m blue in the face – but I can’t make them so.
I have tried to teach by example. When I missed his first step, his first laugh, a school assembly, I hoped at least he would grow up knowing the importance of hard work. Knowing that providing for your family is important.
I’m demonstrative with my gratitude, my love, my compassion. I want him to see those things in action and have them become a part of who he is.
I’ve never beat him, never told him he was less than and never has he gone without a meal or an article of clothing that he required.
My son has had the best of me and my time is almost up.
He’s going to be in the worlds kitchen while it’s population is carving, cleaning, juggling tasks. And I don’t want him behaving the way he did in mine.
I tell myself ‘God doesn’t have grandchildren’. I also remind myself that it took me a long time before I knew half of what I know today.
I guess it all boils down to that age-old wish. I don’t want him to make my mistakes.
But this isn’t about me.
I could have handled yesterday a lot better. So obviously, at 43 I still have a great deal to learn. Why be so hard on a 17-year-old?
A Necessary Truancy
“Is this Amanda?”
Yes.
“I have your son in the health office – he says he has a headache and is nauseous”.
(refrain from asking if she means to imply he’s making others feel sick, you grammar nazi! Besides, there are now two definitions for ‘nauseous’)
“Would you like to speak to him?”
Yes please.
Nic get’s on the phone.
Me: What’s going on?
Nic: I don’t want to be here – I’m having a really bad day”.
I’m seeing this in my head:
And this too:
OK.
Honesty really racks up the points in my book. Honesty will earn you respect, and today earned me using my lunch to leave work, drive to his school and collect him.
I didn’t need the details yet, he told the truth and from the tone of his voice I got it.
Sometimes, we just want to go home. We’re done. We want comforting and to be surrounded by comfort.
I pulled up to the school and sprung him. I got the scoop about what possibly could have ruined his day in the whole hour and 20 minutes he was there. I won’t share the details – that’s not fair to him, but suffice it to say – he was in fact having a pretty crappy day.
Yes, he needs to learn to ‘decide to be happy’ to ‘soldier on in the face of adversity’ and to ‘not take things so personally’. But he’s 17. I’m in my 40’s and am still honing those skills.
When you’re a teenager, sometimes it does feel like your entire world is crumbling down around you, and you just want a time-out.
I am SO very grateful that my son can be honest with me. Oh, I know. I’m not so naive as to believe that he tells me everything, and nor should he. But when it really counts – we’re close enough that he trusts he can tell me the truth and not regret doing so.
Our ride from his school to our house was filled with conversation, observations, lessons and advice. Of course I stressed the importance of not missing anymore school – about not letting people ruin his day. That he can’t run away from every problem. About resentments – how futile they are. Metaphors flowed. “Nic, resenting them is like taking poison and expecting them to die!” Concerns were soothed, smiles were exchanged and I felt so very blessed.
No. He’s not my little boy anymore. No, I can’t save him from the world. But today I could give him a chance to regroup. To feel loved. To take a breath and collect his thoughts and I could take a rare opportunity to share some wisdom and experience with him.
When my grandson or granddaughter calls him years from now having a bad day, I hope he picks them up. Figuratively and literally. And I’m pretty sure he will. Because this young man who I am so lucky to call my son – is a kind-hearted, sensitive, funny, bright, loving soul.
All that being said, if he hadn’t told the truth, his butt would have stayed at school. 😉
Pernicow
This is Nic, (Also known as, Nicholas, Pickle, Pcow, pernicow, umcow, umba the cow, bird, be-bah and many more nic-names).
He used to circle pictures of toys he wanted in those colorful catalogs that arrived during the holidays.
This is Nic today.
Yesterday he circled features he’d like on his Senior Class Ring! :-O
The ‘Packet’ came home.
It’s announcement, cap, gown and class ring time. WHERE did the time GO?
Of course, when a milestone like this arrives, it doesn’t saunter up casually whilst waving, it’s ninja like, and bonks you on the head out of nowhere with the reality that time HAS in fact flown by. I happily look back – because MAN there are some GREAT memories.
Thought I would share some of them, thanks to something I’ve done ever since he started to speak.
I kept a book of funny things he said.
Some of these might just be oh so precious to me, and bore the hell out of you – but I’ll give it a whirl – here’s a sampling.
Words most wise and profound :
“You should cut your hair, but be careful – it grows back. Mine does EVERY TIME!”
____________________
“Necessary animals that we can’t touch are lions”
____________________
“I love waterfalls, they’re so romantic” (seeing roadside flooding going down a street)
____________________
“Here’s the new story of Jesus. The new Jesus was so strong that he scared the Romans with his thunder shock and they were scared off into the whole wide world!” (Nic’s response to my explanation of Easter)
____________________
(Giving me a time-out) “If you do it one more time you’re going in time out … and it’s not fun for kids. You have to put your head down and you can’t get up – which Alex DID at the public library!”
____________________
(While wearing many necklaces)
Nic: I want to wear them ALL tomorrow. I want to be cool!
Me: You know, cool doesn’t have to mean a lot
Nic: I want to be cool in my own way
____________________
Precious and Hilarious:
(While drying his ears after a bath)
“Don’t do it with the towel … get the cupids!”
____________________
“Can I have eat of that?”
____________________
(Trying to take a picture of him on a camel statue at the zoo – he dismounts)
Me: Where are you going?!
Nic: I’m getting on the lump!
____________________
(At the store)
“Let me down! I’ll be good! I’ll give you a hundred dollars – or six, or nine”
____________________
(Speaking of growing older)
“I’ll still want to hug you when my hands are bigger than yours”
____________________
“Look mom!” (with a laundry basket on his back)
“I’m a snail! Poke my eye!” (I poke it – he retracts into the basket)
(I take the basket) “Now I’m a slug”
____________________
(describing his ‘share’ day at school – he took a remote control truck)
“They was crazy over it! They was shovey!!”
____________________
(interacting with his Lego knights without knowing I could hear)
“I’ll get you someday!! Maybe even tomorrow!”
____________________
Me: Does your face itch?
Nic: No, but sometimes it makes my finger come.
____________________
Me: Nicholas, make yourself useful –
Nic: OK, I’m a hairdryer
____________________
(Nic responding to me doing a silly voice to our dog, Morty)
“I like when you say those words. It makes my heart beat faster, even wider”
____________________
(asking for Sponge Bob cereal at bedtime)
“What? I just want a sample of nautical nonsense”.
____________________
Me: If you could only have one meal a day, what would it be?
Nic: Can I have more than one thing on my plate?
Me: Of course
Nic: Ok, um …. mashed potatoes, salad and steak
Me: I meant breakfast, lunch or dinner!
____________________
“Yeah you’re right – you surprise me sometimes” (responding to my insistence that he did need to go potty)
____________________
And – my favorite Christmas time one –
“All my life I never saw a figgy pudding”
____________________
Hope you enjoyed this little assortment. I enjoyed looking back – good thing I have these memories because he may not be speaking much to me after he sees this post 😉
A taste of ’empty nest’
My bird is spreading his wings.
I find myself alone on a school night while he enjoys an evening with a friend. I’ve been catching glimpses lately of ‘life sans bird’.
I’ve wished sometimes I could go back in time and speak to the younger me, warn of pitfalls, give sage advice and offer tips for succeeding in ‘life’. But I wouldn’t have listened to me – who am I kidding, and really, who would I be if I hadn’t made my mistakes?
It’s with this knowledge that I know I can’t save my son from making his own mistakes. And would it really be ‘saving’ – after all, we only grow from experience.
He’s going to get his heart broken. He’s going to break a heart. He’ll find himself in precarious situations and he’ll know disappointment and loss.
My hope is that I have made an impression on him. That he’s seen through example that gratitude, hard work and faith can make life so beautiful. My hope is that adversity will not stop him from flying and that he ends up soaring.
Every day I tell him “I love you” and every day we laugh. I apologize when I’m wrong or when I’m sour.
I’m so excited to watch him become the man he’s meant to be! It’s like reading a book that you love from the very first page. Not wanting to put it down – savoring every word and every chapter!! The best part though, God willing, is unlike a book – I’ll see my favorite character continue to grow and be a part of his story.
I can’t describe with adequate words how very much I love my bird. From the moment I heard “It’s a son!” My first word to him “Hi” (lol) I’ve been in love. I watch him with wonderment.
Whoever he decides to be, whatever path he decides to take – I’m truly blessed to have had the privilege of even knowing him.
I am my favorite person in the whole world’s mother. What a gift!
I’ll be OK when the nest is empty – because I’m not lonely alone. I like myself. I hope that example most of all has made an impression on him. I think it has. Pretty sure I’ve raised a young man who is comfortable in his own skin.
Blessed.
Debauchery Soup 