Letting Go, Part 2

This is nothing more gut wrenching for me than letting go of my offspring, and trusting that they will find their way in the world.

I did that this past August, when my son left for Dallas to attend college.  My husband drove him more than a thousand miles to school. As they left, I saw him wave, as if to reassure me that things would be alright and not to worry. Photo by rutlo.

A thousand miles away, a two-hour plane ride or two days of driving. He may as well be on the other side of the world.  We established a weekly Skype call to check in, as a way to stay in touch but not be smothering with daily calls. It's my time to see in his face how things are going, whether he's eating and sleeping enough through bright eyes, whether he has the chipper look of someone still enjoying the adventure of a new environment, or whether he's lackluster and getting tired of the grind of being at college and away from home.  Each week is different. 

Men communicate differently from women and introverted men are especially sparse in providing the detail that women hunger for.  Emails to my son are rarely replied to and if so, with just a few words.  I don't get sentences, just words--"Sure" or "Fine" or "Not yet".  This, too, is part of letting go.  

My husband, who is also an introvert, is less able to avoid me when I go into my twenty questions mode.  For my son, it is simply a matter of turning his attention elsewhere. Photo by Jimmy_Joe

I have come to the conclusion that letting go is allowing someone to make their own choices, with the repercussions falling squarely on the person who is meant to learn from his mistakes.  There is a saying from a mediation class that I go to occasionally: "We are the heirs of our actions."

To embrace this fully, for yourself and for others is a gift of trust and faith.  Trust that you and the other person are strong enough to survive the result of one's actions.  Faith that in the process of learning, we become stronger.

So, when my son comes home for Thanksgiving, I will be giving thanks for his presence, as well as the journey that he is on.  I will also be giving thanks for my own journey of letting go to grow.  Photo by kevin dooley.

Comments

[Marc Miller]

When our son went off for college 1000 miles away in 2002, one thing became very evident on his trips home. I was now seeing him in snapshots. I would walk out of a room and when I would walk back in he would be doing something really mature that I had never seen him do before. He would suddenly call home and ask for some really mature "advice". When he was in high school I was pretty stupid. I did not know ANYTHING.

I was use to seeing him every day and the changes from day to day were slight. When I only saw him every three months the changes were very evident. He was growing up! He is now 27, got married two weeks ago, off my payroll and is fine young man. I am smart again.

[carolross]

Thanks, Marc, for sharing your experiences with seeing your son grow into an adult. The snapshot idea makes a lot of sense. It's made me look forward to seeing changes each time my son comes home. And congratulations on raising a fine son. I'm sure you were the proud dad at his wedding!