Been talking with a young soldier friend who is in Iraq. Facebook chat is a wonderful thing. He knows my son and is very eager to talk with him when he gets home this fall. I'm glad about that. Maybe he will listen....maybe not. My son did not call on his sister's birthday. I really didn't expect him too, but I suppose I was hoping somewhere down deep that he would. One more sign that the rift is deep, wide, like a chasm that opens in a glacier, bottomless.Will things ever be OK again? I don't know. It's been six months. Six months. I never dreamed that this child, the one who clung to me as a young child, boy, adolescent, who seemed to love me so much has willingly dropped out of my life. This child who called me every day from school.
Then I wonder--why did he cling? Out of love, or need? Because he knew I would be sympathetic and he could get something from me? All the times he "missed" the bus on purpose so I would take him out to the tech school.
I feel the fool for believing him all the times he told me things that didn't quite add up. I took my son's side as any mom would I suppose. I feel the fool for believing him the last year when he told me he needed money and couldn't pay his bills.
I'm angry that he stiffed his landlord for $1200 when he was making a lot of money. I'm angry that he is drinking his check away. Angry that he is allowing a woman to manipulate and use him, to use the very characteristics that are destructive in him to get what she wants from him.
Angry that he has left a small niece and a small nephew wondering where their uncle is; crying for him night after night until I told them that he is all mixed up right now and can't be here. They are too little to hear the truth.
Where can I find hope today? In my God, whose mercies are new every morning. In my God, who only lets a person go so far before He says, "Enough." In my God, who sings over me and watches me through the night.
In my God, who can make dead things live again.
May the God of Hope fill me with joy and peace today.
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