Thursday, December 9, 2010


*sigh*Our family endured almost a year of separation while the Boy was "away" for his freshman year in high school. It was a bit like what has been described in amputees as a "phantom limb" where one can feel a limb that is no longer present after an amputation. Still, there was more joy in the reattachment of our missing limb to the family body last Summer for having come through the time of separation.
The week before the girls and I left for Honduras, a phone call came as I sat with a friend in the hospital waiting for medical tests on her son. The call was one of the few that could have taken me from her side at that moment. Our son was in trouble at school, and we were being notified of an In School Suspension. Stomach clenched into a hard, cold knot and mind numb, I phoned the people who have authority over our son thanks to his previous poor choices to ask what would come next. Listening to the instructions, the grief carefully walled away long enough to manage the brief explanation to my friend as to why I would leave in her time of need. The drive north was uneventful, or at least unnoticed. I pulled into the driveway, and the Boy climbed into the Mom Mobile. As we drove, I fielded phone calls from the various people who have the power to dictate our lives based on our son's choices.
The meeting we attended yielded several results. I was instructed to go to Honduras. To keep plans made with our daughters. To hold our family together as it splintered again. The mister would remain home over Thanksgiving not for the Guys' Week anticipated with the Boy, but alone. Home alone in the house we chose to provide our family with a fresh start. The place we chose for our Boy to come home to... The Boy was to be returned to his previous housing.
Yesterday, I sat waiting. Our advisor was on vacation, and the Boy's provider was not present. Nothing would be resolved. I received approval for a "pass" that will enable us to wait until next week to hear The Boy's fate decreed by those who seek to help him. We pray for him, we miss him, and we wait for him to realize his potential. Most of all, we love him. It is expected that he will be taken further away this time. A year of him across town produced a constant awareness that he was just out of reach. The delight and the strain of having him home was a challenge, but worthwhile. Having him torn away again is a grief that I cannot quite give myself over to while we are as yet unsettled.


Fannie said...

I'm so sorry. I wish there was something else to say. I'll say a prayer for the boy and for you.

Laura said...

Heavy on my mind and heart this morning. Lifting him to the One who heals and loving you from afar.

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

Oh, how tough. I'm really sorry.