Homesickness, Adult Version

I have just spent the past, nearly two weeks, being with my oldest child. He had a nice amount of time on leave from the US Army and spent it entirely with us and his friends from here, his childhood home.

The big family spent a week up north in Michigan in an ancient Cape Cod on the coast of Lake Michigan. It is nearly our fortieth year at this Cape Cod, a place he has visited every year of his life until he went to basic training last year. This year, he was not going to miss it.

The entire week, the kids played. They played on the dunes, capture the flag at night, hiking during the days. We ate ice cream and shopped at the little shops in town. We went to our favorite places to get baguettes and curd cheese, and grabbed a couple pounds of smoked salmon to go with it. We ate and ate.

I didn’t get to spend a lot of one-on-one time with my son, but that didn’t matter. I knew where he was. I knew who he was with. I knew the fun he was having and the memories he was making.

I heard some of the noise they made playing cards till 2 am. I heard them on the dunes behind the house at night. But, sometimes, I just slept…really slept. My children were all together. And they were with their cousins and their aunts and uncles who love them like crazy. It really could not get better for me, the mom.

Seeing them together makes my heart more happy than I could have ever imagined. Together, we have innumerable inside jokes, using all of our favorite movies and books from years and years of days and days, filled with each other.

We homeschooled for 13 years in a smallish home, so they were always together, making messes and learning together. It wasn’t perfect at all. But, we all tried our best. I am sure some would consider our attempt pretty lame, but we were a team, the kids and I.

Yes, it was lonely raising them primarily alone on the farm. But, we had each other. And I never realized how much of my heart and soul belonged to them. That is, until they began to leave. And with every subsequent leaving, my heart’s gaping hole empties again, as the tears are released from my eyes.

Adulting sucks, to be sure. But there is no way around it that I have found.

The kind of love I have for them is not able to be expressed with words. And I don’t do interpretive dance, nor do I write music…yet. Until I find a way to tell them how much I love them, I will write. Maybe that way I’ll find the words. Today, this is what I would say to my oldest, my son.

My sweet young man,

I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love you. When I first held you in my arms, it was after a very long struggle. I fought hard to have a healthy child. No, not all of the moments were magical. Some were downright terrifying. And many were lonely, until you could talk. When you found your voice, I fell in love, over and over again. Your curious nature, your sponge-like brain, your eyes full of wonder, enlivened my life like I could never have imagined. You opened up a whole new life for me. And I am forever grateful. Watching you grow into the beautiful man you are becoming is a great honor and joy. I don’t deserve to have a son like you. I know that. But, there is no doubt as to how grateful I am to be part of your life, to be someone you loved…perhaps the first person you did love.

The way you love me and your sisters is a real gift. The desire you have to bring sense to the chaos of our lives and a semblance of cohesiveness to this stage of our lives is admirable. I have watched families my entire life, as they grow and fledge. And I have seen many sad things happen. Not so, with you.

I have been so blessed to see you firmly planted, knowing who you are and loving it. It is such a gift to your sisters as well. No, we don’t all agree on religion or politics. But we honor each other. We can laugh about so much that it doesn’t matter. We love you and you love us enough not to let ourselves get hurt over trivialities. It’s so good.

There are no words that can express how much I love you. I appreciate you. I am grateful for you. I honor your journey in a huge way. I support everything you choose to do.

You and I have been through a lot together and I trust your wisdom. You have trusted me with hard things along the way, as you took the time to flounder a bit and find your footing. You never assumed I wouldn’t be there for you, like many kids your age. That was a great blessing as well. I am forever grateful.

I cannot be more proud of you. It’s been quite a journey to this moment in time and I know you have struggled. But you are still going, pushing through it, testing your limits, and thriving. That is all that matters.

I wish I had more of my life that I was excited about. But I don’t. My greatest joy is watching you and your sisters find your ways in life, struggling, learning, and growing. I am figuring my own life out, little by little. But you all have so much ahead of you. And it is exciting.

In the meantime, I’ll be here for you, no matter when or where. You know that. I am sure. It is the least I can do for you. You taught me how to love with the whole me…nothing held back. And that might be the greatest gift there is. Love you like crazy.

Love, your Mama

As I watched him hug his sisters this morning, I could not help but cry. I cry because of my own sadness. But I also cry for them. Their tears are always too much for me. We all ache for time with him. And now, there will never be enough.

He is going about his own life, living his dreams…working toward them at least. And we are so proud of him.

I don’t need to be a central figure in his life anymore. He is engaged to be married to an amazing young woman who we are all in love with. And life is good. To have your children love each other is a great gift and its meaning is not lost on me.

The home my heart longs for in these moments, however, is a home that will never again exist. It will forever be part of my mind, body, and soul. I’ll never regret the years of little sleep and sacrifice because they gave me the past two weeks. I am reaping the rewards of it all, deserved or not.

Until I see them all together again, I’ll be here, keeping myself busy with life, work, homework, and his sisters. I’ll hear about the funny texts he sends them. I’ll hear about how he calls them and checks in.

And in my mind, I’ll hear his voice, telling me how much he loves me. Nothing will ever be more real than that love. Ever. It is love born of our struggles as we grew up together, even though we were a mother and son.

There were fears, but there was no betrayal. There were endless, prayerful nights, but there was no abandonment. There was anger and frustration, but there was enough hope to get us through. And there can be nothing more real than that.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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