Missing him but not sad

I am not sure why people keep saying to me you must be so sad without your boy and how terrible the empty nest must feel. I am coming to realise that this what many mothers feel when their children leave home. In that I would appear to be fortunate. I certainly miss him, lots. But I cannot be sad that he has left home.

How can I?

He sent me a text this morning telling me that he is having a blast. It's clear that he's excited and enjoying his new environment, that he is utterly immersed in his adventure. How can I be sad when my son is happy? Isn't that what every mother wants for her child - that they be happy?

It maybe that I have a slightly different perspective having lost a child. That is sad. Twenty years on it still makes me sad, and even now some nights I weep gently for her loss.

So no I am not sad that Small has left home, even if I do miss him.

Changing life

Early this morning Small and Wonderful Husband left for Bloemfontein in South Africa where tomorrow Small will begin his University education. He hugged me tightly this morning before he left, saying "see you in March Mum". That hug conveyed so much - anxiety, excitement, quivering tension of a horse in the starting gates.

I am left pondering the changes.

This is a change for both him and for my husband and I. And our feelings mirror each other surprisingly closely. I will miss Small enormously, even as I am delighted that he is able to move on to the next stage of his life. I will miss his mischievous humour, his willing help and the friends who seem to fill the house. It will be quiet now. Mostly I will miss our outings together - we do have such fun together.

Yet much as I will miss him I am looking forward too the new flexibility that not having children in school will bring. The opportunity to plan a holiday outside of school holidays, to take off for a weekend on impulse, to spend a Friday night in peace as Small is not partying (well I won't know about it) and just time together with my husband. I can see that we will be buried in our books often enough, but it will be strange to have a conversation that doesn't get interrupted.

Changes.

A new phase in my life.

What will it bring?

A new group

We start the new years Confirmation group tomorrow with twelve or thirteen teenagers signed up.  This appears to be a particularly young lot, so some of our material will need a little tailoring. My co leader and I have been talking about where to begin, especially with the meditation part of the class. In this discussion we have marveled at what the Holy Spirit has in store for us this year. We have learned to trust that the group that forms is exactly the group that needs to come in to being.

Often times our particular group seems to attract some of the most vulnerable boys in the college and from its sister girls school run by the Dominican sisters, yet the groups develop into tight knit communities across divides that would normally keep the teenagers separate with in the broader school context.

We are also intrigued how one year binds to another, despite having no real contact and only a shared experience of the class to join them. Before Christmas when one of a set of twins from the class of two years ago was killed in a car accident members of several years classes turned up at the funeral mass, despite having not known him, while all the members of his class either arrived or sent messages if they were out of the country studying.

We are certain that the shared meditation and prayer is key to this group unity, and it most certainly ties each teen to our own hearts.

A good day

It is said that one man's meat is another's poison.

This thought came strongly to mind this afternoon when I got an email from Vetboy describing his first rectal examination of a cow. He was delighted and full of enthusiasm for the process, describing it to me in detail. Unaccustomed to such lurid detail, I could only feel glad that I had not had to stand behind a large bovine and insert my arm into its rectum.

Vetboy on the other hand ended his long chatty email with the simple words "it's been such a good day".

At the end of the day

My grandmother, who taught me to pray, would often use the words from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer at the end of the day. What I learned as a child I do still and tonight I pray in weariness born of being busy at work, caring for a sick husband and a sick cat, and the edgy grief of missing Vetboy who is back at University after two wonderful months at home.

              Lord support us all the day long, 
              until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes,
              and the busy world is hushed. 
              Then in Thy mercy grant us safe lodging, 
             a holy rest and peace at the last.

Funny how the words we learned to pray with when we are very young are the ones we are drawn to when energy is low, and the spirit drags a little. Comforted and warmed by the memory of my grandmother I slide down toward sleep, happy to close out tomorrow in the welcome of my own bed.

Feeding the five thousand

The reading for this morning is the feeding of the five thousand. I always find this story fantastical and for many years considered that the real miracle that Jesus wrought was changing people's hearts so that they shared in generosity what they had with their unknown neighbours rather than a simple multiplication of five loaves and two fishes.

Today I contemplated it both ways and found that all that was revealed to me was my own anxieties.

It didn't actually matter whether hearts were changed or food was miraculously multiplied.

All I am aware of is that unable to completely trust the power and love of the Living God I am frequently afraid. And the familiar Christmas words come to mind. "To a people who lived in darkness, a light is given". It is disturbing to realize how much anxiety I live with daily. No wonder gratitude is hard to come by. Those who ate that evening on a grassy Galilean hillside were present to Jesus, hearing his teachings, sharing in his compassion. The Gospel doesn't say how the people responded, only that Jesus loved them and cared for their needs.

Perhaps even now He has compassion on me and will meet my needs, so that my legion of anxieties are unnecessary.

The New Year

Happy New Year to you all.

This morning, when I am supposed to be back at work and actually working, I find myself contemplating The New Year instead. A couple of clients have expressed disquiet over the fact that we are in the 13th year of the 21st century and their beliefs make them anxious about what 'bad luck" the year may bring.

If the opening day of 2013 is anything to go by it will be a year filled with the usual mixture of good and bad, happy and sad and laughter and tears. We spent New Years Eve with some very good friends and had a very relaxed and comfortable evening, full of laughter and humour. We watched a local fireworks display at ease on our friends patio, safe in the knowledge that our epileptic dog was at the Veterinary Hospital carefully sedated and being monitored so it was unlikely that the bangs would trigger a fit. However when we got home around one in the morning our little black cat was sporting a massive cut on her side, clearly she had been caught on barbed wire somewhere. She was in so much pain that catching her without hurting her further was an exercise in agility and dexterity that I was not capable of at this time in the morning. Vet boy however scooped her up and we set off for the Veterinary Hospital for the second time that day, where they cleaned her up and have left the wound open to drain.

In the morning we collected both animals, one safe and well and the other still in considerable pain but healing.

Although we face a great deal of uncertainty in this country with a constitutional referendum and election coming up, both of which promise to be violent if previous years are anything to go by, it is a year to look forward and hope that any improvement in political relationships will allow our moribund economy to move forward a bit.

All in all I think I look forward to the usual variety that each year holds. And today I embrace the highs and lows, at peace with what may come. Although such equanimity is unlikely to hold all through the year it is a good way to begin.