DRY Ink

Jacob,
There are times when a birthday letter just doesn’t seem like enough, so here’s a little something I put together for you.

I love you buddy, and I’m so glad we are where we are. You are standing on the verge of your whole life, with brains in your head and feet in your shoes. A life without mom or dad’s daily input and I’m so excited for you, (and maybe a little sad for me.) I’m looking forward to the next 18 years. I can’t wait to see what you’re gonna do.
Love,
Mom

While I’m all bragging about I made this.

I need to admit, I made this too.

I probably owe you an apology for that last one.
Sorry.

Somebody came home.

So here it is: For four very brief but intense days last week Jacob reentered my life, and just like that he is gone again. This is not atypical at all. What is atypical this time is that I think I’ve finally got it. This time I listened and helped. That’s it. I approached this excursion with zero expectations. Only that I was his mother and that he needed help. For my trouble I am 94 dollars and 46 cents plus gas poorer and millions of dollars of knowledge and bonding richer. For four days I drove that man child around this city while he got a new license, opened a checking account, put a bumper on his truck, got a new starter and new front tires so that he can drive to a neighboring state to get trailer to help with his burgeoning lawn care business.

And just like that he is gone again. Having his needs met he has once again disappeared back into his own life, but this time I am left with a new peace for the first time in almost 2 years. I no longer cry when I think about him and what we have been through. I have forgiven him, but most of all I have forgiven myself.

I entered into this experience troubled, should I be doing this? Am I simply enabling him? I decided, right or wrong, he was going to do what he was going to do, and I might as well help with the things he honestly needs. Mostly for two reasons. I had taken the other road every time given the choice over his 17 years and that has turned out oh so well. What’s the definition of insanity again? The second reason being, just because he doesn’t believe it is true, does not change the fact that he is still a child and needs help. He needs to be taught how to do things in order to function in this society. It has become exorbitantly clear, no one else is going to help with this. That’s okay. I am his mother, it is my job and my responsibility, no matter how many poor decisions he makes or how many times he hurts me. News flash, the responsibility lies with me. I guess I have finally figured out it is time to put on my big girl panties.

So I helped. As counter intuitive as this was for me. But guess what? It worked. I now understand him better. He opened up, let me in and I understand what is going on in his life, what he is struggling with and why some of the things that happened a year and a half ago happened. I think, though I’m not certain, that we may have even learned to disagree. I hope he now knows where I stand and that he can turn to me for what he needs and knows where my values lie to not ask for what I can’t support, but that I still love him regardless. If he has in fact learned that, then all was a success.

1 tank of gas: $53.12
1 dodge truck starter: $94.46
2 new front tires: $165
1 new duplicate drivers license: $13
1 new checking account and lessons on how to balance it: free
4 days with a 17 year old: priceless

But do me a favor, don’t mention it to anyone that it took me 17 damn years to figure all this out. It’ll be our secret, okay? And the big girl panties? They take a little getting used to, but I think they’re gonna work just fine.

Well sports fans it’s that time again. Yep, Jacob turns 17 today and I have to say this is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. Almost up there with actually, physically letting him go.

Jacob,

Happy birthday! I can hardly believe you’re 17. I’m so glad they don’t let people have babies at 4, like I did, anymore. Dude, that’s just wrong.

I’m so excited for you this birthday, because today is the day you will finally get a driver’s license and get to drive your truck. All legal and all. That’s cool. That should open up a world of possibilities for you. I thought I would never see this day, that we would never get your seizures under control. But here we are. Go you.

This has been a crazy year. (In case you weren’t paying attention.) This is the year I learned that I have to let you go. Not just let you move out because you and your father are being an ass, but actually let you go, and learn to fly on your own. Let you start to make mistakes and learn from them. On. Your. Own. Needless to say, I’ve been incredible crappy at this thus far. The words: monumental failure may even come to mind. But some how, I’m actually learning to do this and guess what? You’re pretty good at this on your own stuff. I guess you could say that I owe you an apology for underestimating you. (So okay, I’m sorry.) You have managed to become quite found of a pretty nice girl, work all summer, save up enough money to buy a truck, and even purchase some lawn care equipment and start your own business. Maybe I should have shown you the door at 10, who knows, you might rule the world by now. Just joking. Sorta.

I know I held on way too tight for way too long. I’m not sure why I couldn’t recognize that you are the sort of kid who just needs to experience things on your own, your own way. I was that kind of kid, and I still am, but I guess I just wanted to save you from some of my mistakes. In that quest, I lost track of what was important: you. I just got so caught up in giving you the best life you could possible have, I forgot that you don’t actually belong to me, and that my idea of the best life might not actually be your idea. Don’t get me wrong, I still think I’m right, and that you will eventually see that, I just now understand better that you have to find out I’m right in your own time and own way. Sure you may fall down along the way, but that’s part of the learning experience and in the end, you are smart enough to make it through just fine, no matter where it is you decide you’re headed.

Jacob, I truly hope one day you’ll come to understand what took me way too long to learn; that God only lends us children, and that from the day that they are born, the process of letting go begins. It’s our job as parents to figure out how to balance all that; teaching them what they need to know and then letting them experience things for themselves. It’s a lot of balls in the air. It is not easy, but boy is it worth it. Some how wanting to save you turn into a struggle for control. I couldn’t see that at the time that I had cross the line and lost sight of the big picture.

You are one of the neatest people I know. You have an amazing view of the world and the best sense of humor. Like earlier this week when I walked out into the front yard, and you just came running up outta nowhere and tackled me. Who does that? I couldn’t stop laughing. But then when Jack and Em piled on, you helped me up and told them, ‘okay, that’s enough.’ You tackled me and saved me all in about 30 seconds.

I’m proud of the person you are growing up to be. I’m sorry I couldn’t see the big picture for awhile there. I see it now. I look forward to you figuring out the person you will eventually be and Jacob, I miss you so very much.

Love,

Mom