Ryan left for Helena today to visit Amy for a couple of days before he has to show up as the Chi Alpha House director. Last year's director also experienced being an RA, so he was able to tell Ryan that this job is less work. He has to provide his own eats so it'll cost a little more, but he can't afford to let his grades suffer, so this was a good option.
When I try to think of what we did these past three months, how the summer went and how we took advantage of him being home, I can only conjure snatches of memories and generalizations of how it all went. The 48 hours after he leaves has me thinking of all these good ideas, should'ves and could'ves I wish we had done and things we planned on doing and never got around to actually executing.
I hate regrets. Ryan said not to go there, that we had a GREAT summer with really solid time together, both as a family and one-on-one. He's right, of course. It's that deep satisfaction of knowing they're home that trips me up when the time comes for them to leave. It just always feels so right when they're here, even though I know and truly do want him to continue this track of life he's on--it's a good thing he's doing, normal and challenging and good. I can take those regrets and comprise a list of things we can do another time, a time that'll be that much more precious because it won't be hosted inside three months but only a few days.
We said goodbye about four times in our typical family style, and it was just like him to hug me and then hug me even closer and just stand there like that for a bit, finally saying, "I'm sure gonna miss you when you die...!" I said, "Hopefully, that won't be for a long while, right?!" It was a great final sendoff.
A gracious blanket of gratitude lighted
on me as he took off down the driveway. Three months. Three really, really good months. Jylle reminded me that he wasn't even supposed to be able to come home this summer. Three bonus months!
I'd been pushing back at the cry that kept rising up in me all morning. Honestly, every time one of the boys leaves for long periods of time, I die a little inside. (Love--the greatest curse and blessing of motherhood!) I've often gone downstairs to the room of whichever boy just left, curled up on the bed, and let out all the sadness. Instead, this time, I was delivered into a thankfulness so sure and solid that the demon pain of missing him was booted clean off the premises, and I was left with a heart full of worship.
Would that they would all go this way............ Relationship. Gratitude. Worship. That's a really great summer harvest for anyone.
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