The last couple weeks have been incredibly busy. I helped with and attended a Women's Mini Retreat. It was an amazing time of spending time with the women who I cherish. We had a sleepover on Friday night with games and crazy times. Saturday was a time of refreshment, fellowship and our lesson was on sharing the nuggets in life that have made us the incredible women we are.
Here is an entry from a journal I wrote in 2007, then submitted it to Guidepost in 2010.
As this mother thinks of her son growing up, going through all the stages that he's gone through, she lets him know that she will always be there to support him.
Trying to sleep was impossible tonight as the anticipation welled up inside me. The following morning my son and I would be driving to Logan, Utah to visit Utah State University for the weekend. My son had accepted a full scholarship to play football with the Utah State University Aggies for the next four years. My son and I had experienced a strained relationship through his last years in high school. I knew it was his time in life to test his independence and to struggle through the process of becoming independent. As with all youth, he was becoming an independent adult and preparing himself for leaving home in the fall. He was really close to his father and his twin brother and would need to separate himself emotionally to prepare for the physical separation. I knew our family would need to adjust to the transition that we would go through and I was reluctant to let go of the ultimate care and nurturing. Through the teen years, I felt he could care less about me and I am sure he felt I was distant and could care less about him. He would blame me for being too hard on him, not loving him. Was this part of the process of letting go? It better be, because this was the most emotionally stressful situation I have ever experienced.
To know that in the fall James would be living 600 miles from me and from my nurturing and care. Not only would he be leaving home for college, but his twin brother would also be leaving home to attend San Diego State University. This was another 550 miles in a completely different direction. REALLY? Who would take care of them? Who would feed them? Oh, yes, they are both on the food plans, have dorms on campus and God will care for them. They both still need me. They did not know that I really need them. Not only would I miss them filling our home, but I would miss caring for them and knowing how they really are. I am not a telephone person and would need to keep in touch. But how? A lot of prayer and trusting God would be needed through this time of transition.
The moment finally came and we were awake at 5am and on the road by 6am. I was driving first and we had a plan to alternate driving throughout the day. We drove over the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California and now my anticipation calmed to an excitement. To have my son in a care for hours, just us, to talk, to laugh, to experience the drive, one of many we will take to visit him and watch games over the next four years. We talked about the drive and how long it would take and I had some college brochures and graduation plans we were going to discuss for his high school graduation day. I would pull them out on a boring stretch of highway somewhere in Nevada. As we drove, I prayed and a peace came over me. I felt so much love and pride for the accomplishments in his life. He was everything a mom would want in a son and the love I felt for him, was even stronger now that the love I felt when I met him and married his father 15 years earlier, and through the years of nurturing and caring for him.
I was looking forward to our first stop in Winnemuca, after over three hours on the road, a chance to stretch and gas up. I started to get sick, really sick. I felt pain in my lower abdomen and it was working its way throughout my back and body. As we stopped I could barely walk, the pain was so intense and I felt nauseas. My son did not know what to do, or how to care for me, he had not seen me this sick before. He took over driving and between me having to stop the car every few minutes, I saw true concern and worry in his face and his mannerism. He probably thought we would never get there, a once ten hour trip was becoming a fifteen hour trip. At one stop I went into the gas station and purchased some over-the-counter medicines. I was diagnosing myself with the flu. None of the medications helped. I could find no relief for the pain. I meditated on God and prayed for mercy and healing. We were slowly making our way to Logan. We were not talking about anything, except how I was feeling and what I thought I needed. The pain took over my entire body. This is not the way this trip was planned, there was not a word spoken about graduation, college planning, or plans for the fall. As we got closer to Logan I could not wait to check into the hotel and get comfortable and hopefully sleep. As we arrived at the hotel and my son checked me in and set me up in my hotel room, he went to catch up with a friend, he knew from high school, who now attended Utah State. I could tell he was truly concerned about me and leaving me alone. I took some over-the-counter pain relief medicine and felt like I was dying. I could not sleep and could not sit-up or get comfortable. The pain seemed to be spreading throughout my body. I was weak and extremely tired. The next 29 hours were spent in the hotel room, resting and praying for relief. My son showed how truly mature and compassionate, caring and loving he truly was. He would be fine on his own. He looked after me, cared for me and was willing to do anything for me. Barely 18 years old and so independent. At the time the pain was so intense that I could not see the reasoning behind this trial I was facing. I wanted to get home and to process all of the symptoms thoroughly to see what this ailment really was. It felt like a really bad case of the flu. As most mothers, I am the caregiver, the nurturer, the responder for my family. I normally do not receive care from others and this was an experience that was unnatural.
We finally headed for home on Sunday, after what felt like the longest weekend of my life. The pain had not gotten better, though my body was getting numb to the pain. I was not eating or functioning very well at all. My son again drove all the way home and continued to care for me the best he knew how. When we arrived home I went straight to bed, with the worst pain ever. I had experienced the pain of childbirth twice with no pain medication and have a very high tolerance of pain. This pain was worse than any other I have ever felt and the pain lasted and I could find no relief.
I had another sleepless night and on Monday morning after getting my five kids off to school, drove myself to the emergency room and checked myself in. The doctors discovered that my appendix had ruptured and the infection was spreading throughout my body. The doctors were surprised I was even able to function at all. They did not know exactly when it had ruptured, however, there was no medical explanation for me being alive today. I was taken into surgery immediately, oh and called my husband on the gurney and told him the news. The appendix removed, drains put in to remove the infection. The doctors were optimistic about being able to treat me and remove all of the infection, however, I would not recover quickly. There would be many treatments, antibiotics, and care from the hospital staff. After five days in the hospital, my body responded to the treatment and antibiotics perfectly. I was able to home and recuperate. During my hospital stay my son would come to visit and I again saw that same concern, care and maturity I had experienced the last weekend with him. He shared his life with me, his love and through the last few months at home and the upcoming events we would experience with him going off to college in the fall, I knew we would be fine. The nurturing and care I had been showing him for years now turned around to him nurturing and caring for me. I needed this sign of his abilities to care for himself and others in order to feel peace about the process that would take place in the fall. This experience was one that I would have not chosen to experience, however, through the trial and the pain, I was shown the love of God in my son and his care for me. A true reminder that God would indeed take care of my son, my family and myself through all the transitions in life. I just need to place my trust in Him, wholly.
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