Today I got to do something that I'd been looking forward to all week. Oh, I gave the impression on the outside that I was enjoying my freedom and in no hurry to be once again burdened, but it was just a facade. On the inside I was counting the minutes to the reunion. It had felt like a chunk of my heart was missing all week and this morning I got a part of that piece back. What am I rambling on about ? Today I picked up my youngest son, Joseph, from camp.
I was determined to not to shed a tear once I spotted him. I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his new friends or risk putting a dent in his "tough guy" image. For the most part I held it together as I nonchalantly said, "Hey, Joe, what's up?" No hugs were exchanged. No sloppy kisses given. How clever of me. On the inside every bit of me was screaming, "I've missed you like crazy, Joseph. I've been thinking about you from the minute you left!" I did it. I stayed strong and held my emotions in check.
The closing ceremonies at the camp were wonderful as usual. There was a buzz of excitement in the air the entire time. The kids' passionate behavior during the ceremony was infectious and I had the "if only I was a kid again" feeling the entire time.
It wasn't until Joe and I were on our way home that I finally asked him to tell me about camp. After the standard "it was great" answer, he opened up to me further by telling me his favorite activities, favorite food, and favorite new friend. This dialogue went on for quite some time when, all of a sudden, he paused mid-sentence and said, with a catch in his throat, "Mom, I really missed you." This was quickly followed by "and I love you a lot." Gasp! You could have blown me over with a feather. This comment came from my son who is usually very hard-as-nails tough. From my son who lives up to the position he plays in hockey-an unyielding rough and tough defenseman. From my son who can, at times, rub me the wrong way. From my son who if I say something is black will come back insisting that it's really white instead. This strong-willed son said he missed me and that he loved me! Don't get me wrong-Joe has told me that he loves me many times, but it was his vulnerable confession in this quiet moment that was so precious and meant the world to me.
We took our time during our mother-son drive back home; stopping to have lunch and refuel. Every now and then we'd pull off when we'd spot an exit that advertised a nearby antique mall (all of my kids love to antique shop with me).
It wasn't until Joe fell asleep about an hour from home that I got to quietly reflect on his "I missed you" and "I love you" words. You see, I've always been a little hard on myself in the motherhood department. I've wished that I was a better mother. I've wished that I was more patient with my kids. I've wished that I was more understanding and more grace-filled towards them. Before today, my "wish-list" seemed endless. Until Joe spoke those words. Those words gave me hope. They encouraged me. Maybe I'm not doing such a bad job afterall. Maybe I'm impacting my boys in ways I didn't know. Maybe, just maybe, I'm doing an okay job.
It was then that I heard my heavenly Father speak gently to my heart and say "I told you so, Lynn. I've believed in you the whole time. I knew that you were cut out for this job. You won't always be perfect, but you're the one I want for this special job. I planned it this way."
Next weekend I pick up my oldest sons from camp. I'm not sure what their reponse will be when they see me. Will they hug me? Will they give me kisses? Will they say "I've missed you, Mom?" I don't care. I'm okay with whatever they say or do because today I got my confirmation from my heavenly Father above and that's all that really matters.
"Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from Him." ~Psalm 127:3
***Check out this video...it really has nothing to do with the topic of this blog entry, but it kind of reminds me of what I (and most mothers in general) would do with my children in the same situation.***
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