Letting Go

Our seventeen-year-old son left for Boot Camp last week . He'll be gone 9 weeks. Until recently, the longest this mushy mama had gone without seeing him was 10 days. That mission trip had sure seemed long at the time.

They didn't have him pack much - he's been outfitted from head to toe there - and we don't yet have a complete address to snail mail him. He texted they had landed safely, and we had a short phone call on the night they were locking up the cell phones. You could hear the hum of other guys on their calls home in the background.

Who sends their kid somewhere unknown with no stuff? When we sent his big sister to college, we knew where it was and she packed the entire car full of her stuff. Even though we probably didn't see her for 9 weeks, we could have. And we kept in touch by cell phone.  We knew what her dorm looked like, how the campus laid out and where the dining hall was. I knew every stitch of her clothing and what classes she would be taking and when. I even met her roommate.

We don't know anything about where our son has gone except what we can imagine. Having never been on an Army base, my only two frame of references are Gomer Pyle and M*A*S*H, 
neither of which are probably accurate.

I don't know what he will wear, or when, or why. I don't know when he will eat or sleep or what any facility looks like. I don't know his schedule. I don't know what will be taught to him. I don't know what he sees out the window every day or how many guys sleep in the same room. I don't even know what they call the room he sleeps in, barracks? I don't know how much free time he'll get, if any. I don't know how many people live and work at the base or how secure it is. I don't even know when we will hear from him next.

Yep. I don't know noth'n and we signed the papers to let him go.

When we first sent our daughter to college, I thought I was letting go. Nevermind that her dorm was only 45 minutes away and that we could talk any time we wanted to. We didn't talk that much and she came home just a couple of times, but for all intents and purposes, she was there. This was just my practice at letting go. By the time she left the time zone for a metropolis after college, I had been prepared for the big let go and no longer knew every detail about her life or decor. I just knew her.

This time, I get to practice on our youngest years earlier than anticipated in a much harsher manner. The Army has him. My prayers are less guided because I don't know what is going on, but I can pray for endurance and saftey. And as a mushy mama, I pray his drill sargent isn't a meanie.

People who learn about his summer all say the same thing: "He will come back a man." Well, I thought he was quite the man to even desire to enlist so I can't imagine the man we will be picking up in 8 weeks.

This time, letting go is more like having the rope cut for me. It wasn't my choice in timing, and I'm not protesting or clinging. I understand that this is the next step for him. I think he is learning about letting go this summer, too.

I couldn't be prouder.