Skip to main content

Letting Go

     Nobody told me how hard it would be to let your firstborn go off for his first really big event, free from his mother looking over his shoulders.  I realize, it's a little hard to explain and probably most moms don't spend as much time as I do trying to figure out every emotion that passed through their lives.  I'm weird that way.  I think I'm being brave and before I know it or am willing to admit it, I'm in over my head with trying to figure out what's going on. 
      Two friends called the morning Laife left for boys camp and asked how I was doing. At that moment I was fine.  I got called in to deliver the mail and was busy all day. It didn't even bother me till three in the afternoon, when I was finally home from work and starting the house chores here at home.  I kept walking by his room and feeling funny. I had to keep reminding myself where he was.  Every time I accidently looked into his room to say "Hey", something felt very strange, For one, his bed was made. Also, the weeks of piles for camp where gone.  Empty.  It was how his room looked and how I felt. That evening I focused on working and "being brave" by not thinking about it.  And then, I tried to go to bed. That night was a repeat of the night before. I was trying to convince myself things like: He's fine. He ate enough. He doesn't miss me like I miss him. He's probably staying up late with his buddies making gross body sounds and watching a harmless little campfire. Go to bed, Mom! I'd relax for two minutes and then jerk awake with: I'll bet he's cold and being bit by mosquitoes.
     Yesterday, I did the mail route again and prayed and tried to figure out what it was exactly I was worried about. It never did come together for me, other than this is a first and its time and that I must let go.  I've done about as much as I can do in the mom department.  The rest is up to God at work in Laifes life.  Last night, I finally slept. This morning in church I found out they had survival night last night.  Thank God I didn't know. I don't even know what survival night is, other than a night to prove your braveness, skill, and survival smarts.  I guess he survived, I haven't heard differently. 
     I always wondered how it was that a moms prayers were so constant.  I remember being a skeptic that all those moms actually did remember to pray for their kids when they left home.  I've always been an {out of sight out of mind} kind of person.  I just figured that was how it would be when my kids started to leave home.  Yes, I planned on praying for them but I didn't think it would come naturally like breathing all the day long.  It is though.  I can't stop praying for him.  Either he is having a truly terrible time; therefore God reminds me to pray for him. Or, he is having an AWESOME experience because I am praying for him so constantly.  I'll go with that one.
     O.K. Go be brave. Pray. Survive. Thrive.


  1. We put Clark on the train late at night when he went to boys camp... his first adventure away from home. I totally freaked that night. Didn't sleep, prayed and worried myself half sick. When he got home three weeks later and told me all about his train trip and camping, I realized that my inner drama was a waste of precious energy. God had completely provided for his security in very tangible ways. A Christian family riding on the train that particular 24 hours "adopted" him and gave him a good time. Camp was all good and a great experience for him. I am SO glad I was "brave and survived" the letting go. Children need mom's prayers but certainly not her presence and hovering when it's time to be grown up and independent.

    1. Amen and thank-you, Arla. I'm back to sleeping normal so I'd say three missed nights is not to bad considering how unprepared I was for this "first". That's the way "first" are. You can't really prepare properly. I'm so proud of him and glad he can go...


Post a Comment

I love hearing from you and I want to know your perspective; please share!