At some point every mother must let go. Since our economy makes it so difficult for young people to afford a place of their own, I’ve been able to put it off for quite a while. Last week, though, my son announced that he is ready.
“Would you go with me to look at rentals, Mom?”
Nothing could stop me. I am truly excited for him, but as we browsed the internet and as he made appointments I could feel something like a vise tighten around my heart.
I not only left home at eighteen, I moved across the country from Buckeye, Arizona to Chicago, Illinois, with almost no money and only one friend, hoping to find my way. The audacity. As it turned out, I did not navigate that adventure with very much grace. If there was a difficult way to do something, that was my way, but I learned so much during that decade and eventually made so many great friends that I would not trade the experience for anything. Even so, it was an experience I would not have had if living at home had been a tolerable option. I long ago vowed to be the kind of parent who would spare Connor the bewilderment and hardship that comes with feeling so alone in the world.
Like me he did not have a particular vision for his future, but unlike me he is not reckless or anxious to get away. As a 2020 high school graduate he found himself in a pandemic world of uncertainty, but Connor is pragmatic and launched a career in the trades. Now three years into an electrician’s apprenticeship he is a grown man with a plan.
As for me, I specifically did not plan for this, this painful moment in time that always seemed so far in the future. Now that the future is here I find that I am devastated, but also thrilled to have the chance to be there for him as he makes his way. There will be a lot of tears in the coming months, but mostly tears of joy as I trust in his good judgment, trust in God to keep him safe out there, and trust that I’ll be able to navigate this adventure with grace.