My Son
There have been few days in my life which were as important to me as the days my children were born - October 25, 1985 and June 9, 1987. My daughter is my second-born and the day she was born will forever be one of the happiest days of my life. The day my son was born, however, is truly one of the defining moments of my life. That was the day that I was transformed from being a young man into being a 'Dad'. There are not words to explain the joy, the pride, the overwhelming passion that I experienced when I first held my son. My son - this living, breathing, completely helpless baby was part of ME! And I was part of him. To this day - and I'm sure until my memory is gone - I cannot think of how much I love my son without becoming tearful. The memories of him falling asleep on my chest, the memories of playing with him in the park, the memories of camping with him, or teaching him, of learning from him - at times they flood over me with such force that I am forced to my knees in gratefulness to my God for giving me such a treasure. Time cannot erase my memory of his beautiful blue eyes, of his golden hair, of his infectious smile, his complete and utter trust in his dad as his protector. I would rather lose all my posessions that the memory and blessing of having raised my son.
He is grown now - my son. He is no longer the little boy who wants to hold my hand, who wants me to carry him, who wants me to play with him. There is such a hole in my heart - a deep yearning for the love and trust that only a child can express. I'm sure that all parents go through similar feelings - maybe that's what the empty nest syndrome is all about. Whatever it is, it hurts.
My son and I have grown apart. We don't understand each other any more. I'm not sure what the cause was - I think there is always the tendency of parents to 'blame' themselves for some unknown failure, or to look back at how they have raised their children and 'wish' for the opportunity to do things different - and maybe, given the chance, there are things I'd have done differently. But that type of reflection cannot be healthy - we cannot change the past and are foolish to 'wish' for that opportunity. We must live in the present.
I'm not sure what caused my son to take the journey he's taken, but his journey has been one that is, for the most part, very foreign to that which I have known. As a result, my journey (at his age) was one that would have been very foreign to what he has known. As a result, our values, ambitions, loves and passions are disparate to the point that, the few times we are in each other's company, I feel myself grasping for anything that we can call 'common'. We are strangers, he and I.
Oh, the mighty love I have for my son! If I could, I'd take all his doubts, all his fears, all his insecurity upon myself. I'd hold him and stroke his beautiful face as if he were my child again. But I cannot; I cannot take this from him. His is the charge to concquer his doubts, to embrace his fears, and to face his insecurities. The curse of dads is that, in becoming men, their sons must - by nature - reject the authority and protection of their fathers. They must, themselves, become authorities and protectors. And OH the torment of my soul to experience that.
There are two things I strive to rest in as I watch my son struggle into manhood. First, I KNOW that my son is a good and decent person. However misguided I may believe him to be, I know that my son has the tools to become a strong man - and those tools include compassion, charity, humility, and grace. Second, I KNOW that my God works everything together for good to those who love Him, to those who are the called according to His Word. Oh, how many sleepless nights I've cried to God for that comfort, though! It is one thing to 'know' something - it is quite another to 'rest' in that knowledge. Dear God help me to rest in that knowledge.
There is a passage which speaks to the relentless nature of God's love for His children; it is that, "neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor heighth, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, can seperate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our lord." While I certainly am not God, inasmuch as I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually able, the same is true of my love for my son. There is NOTHING that can seperate my son from my love.
I love you Patrick.
Post Tinebrae Lux
He is grown now - my son. He is no longer the little boy who wants to hold my hand, who wants me to carry him, who wants me to play with him. There is such a hole in my heart - a deep yearning for the love and trust that only a child can express. I'm sure that all parents go through similar feelings - maybe that's what the empty nest syndrome is all about. Whatever it is, it hurts.
My son and I have grown apart. We don't understand each other any more. I'm not sure what the cause was - I think there is always the tendency of parents to 'blame' themselves for some unknown failure, or to look back at how they have raised their children and 'wish' for the opportunity to do things different - and maybe, given the chance, there are things I'd have done differently. But that type of reflection cannot be healthy - we cannot change the past and are foolish to 'wish' for that opportunity. We must live in the present.
I'm not sure what caused my son to take the journey he's taken, but his journey has been one that is, for the most part, very foreign to that which I have known. As a result, my journey (at his age) was one that would have been very foreign to what he has known. As a result, our values, ambitions, loves and passions are disparate to the point that, the few times we are in each other's company, I feel myself grasping for anything that we can call 'common'. We are strangers, he and I.
Oh, the mighty love I have for my son! If I could, I'd take all his doubts, all his fears, all his insecurity upon myself. I'd hold him and stroke his beautiful face as if he were my child again. But I cannot; I cannot take this from him. His is the charge to concquer his doubts, to embrace his fears, and to face his insecurities. The curse of dads is that, in becoming men, their sons must - by nature - reject the authority and protection of their fathers. They must, themselves, become authorities and protectors. And OH the torment of my soul to experience that.
There are two things I strive to rest in as I watch my son struggle into manhood. First, I KNOW that my son is a good and decent person. However misguided I may believe him to be, I know that my son has the tools to become a strong man - and those tools include compassion, charity, humility, and grace. Second, I KNOW that my God works everything together for good to those who love Him, to those who are the called according to His Word. Oh, how many sleepless nights I've cried to God for that comfort, though! It is one thing to 'know' something - it is quite another to 'rest' in that knowledge. Dear God help me to rest in that knowledge.
There is a passage which speaks to the relentless nature of God's love for His children; it is that, "neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor heighth, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, can seperate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our lord." While I certainly am not God, inasmuch as I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually able, the same is true of my love for my son. There is NOTHING that can seperate my son from my love.
I love you Patrick.
Post Tinebrae Lux
posted by posttinebraelux | 9:38 AM
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