The Rock Made Me Do It

So, some of you may have heard me tell the story about when Simon was a little boy and threw a rock into the neighbors house as I was standing right next to him asking him not to do it. Delightful parenting moment. We had a stand off for like three minutes....he held the rock and raised his hand a little more each time and the grin on his face got bigger and bigger....and I stood over him asking him to put the rock down and my voice became louder and louder each time he raised his hand higher and his grin grew larger. Well, he threw it and broke the window and as I was dragging him back into the house for a timeout, he keep insisting, "The rock made me do it, the rock made me do it"! And to this day, he swears that the rock possessed him and made him throw it into the neighbors window (who were quite nice about since they adored him).

Fast forward twenty years later, and he is grown man and moving to Hawaii. He quit his job, sold his car, packed up his belongings and said he was going to land on the Big Island and try and make a life for himself there with his girlfriend. As a parent, you need to encourage your children to grow and learn, but at the same time you want to shrink them and tuck them back into bed. How do you do both? How do you let go and at the same time hold them so near? I can tell you it's a challenge and so far I haven't perfected it.

The weeks leading up to his flight were tough on so many different levels but especially because I was faced with that very dilemma. I imagined driving him to the airport and then driving off without letting him out of the car but I figured that wasn't really nice. I imagined he'd change his mind and say he was moving back in with me but even that had it's problems because he's a grown man and not a little boy who needs taking care of anymore (plus I think his girlfriend would have liked that idea very much). The night before he left was especially rough on me. I was lying in bed trying to stop my mind from racing...trying to come to grips that tomorrow my precious, little boy was flying off to Hawaii and things might never be the same. Would he be home for the holidays? His birthday? Mother's Day? Thanksgiving? What if he fell sick? I wouldn't be down the street. I laid there frozen. Not sure how to process the feelings that were flooding my mind and body. And then I remembered I had two rocks of my own. One that I carry when I need to remind myself of strength and courage and one that I found in Hawaii on my honeymoon. My Hawaiian rock seemed fitting and reminded me of the way of life on the island but most of all, at that very moment, of my son and the life that he going to pursue. I figured I should hold both. My strength rock in my right hand and my Hawaiian rock in my left. I finally feel asleep clutching both. I woke up in the morning still clutching the rock in my right hand but somehow let the Hawaiian rock go in sleep. At first I was alarmed and so sad that I had let it go in my sleep, and then it hit me...like a rock....I needed to let it go. I needed to let him go from my clutch so he could soar. A perfect articulation of what I was feeling and what I needed to do. I still miss him like crazy but I am so proud of him and excited about the life he is building.

I guess you could say at the end of the day, the rock made me do it too.