Retrospect
I have been
reading in my journals and thinking about a time in my life when I was dealing
with a difficult and frustrated child of mine. He was just beginning high school and had been having
difficulties in school and dealing with his emotions. He was just struggling. I was trying so hard to be a good parent and I often had
conversations with him that seemed, at the time, to be meaningful. In retrospect, though, I missed the
point sometimes. I had asked him
once, “Were you ever happy?” And his answer was, “When I was five, I was
happy.”
He was so
unhappy then.
Sept. 2002
I want to relate a
discussion I had with my son but I’m not sure I can explain it well. He tried
out for the Variety Show today singing the song, “Wish You Were Here”.
“So,
so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?”
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?”
He said he had a “thought” or a “revelation” about the words to
the song. He said, “I feel like I
miss the me who was involved with painting, scouts, soccer and orchestra. I
miss the old me.”
“How I
wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.”
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.”
Perhaps he feels that he could handle things better “before” his
little breakdown, and wishes his “Boy Self” could be here now.
I must confess, I enjoyed the “Boy Self” too, an enthusiastic
player, looking forward to activities, wanting to try out for orchestra,
wanting to take a painting class. He was confident and energetic. Sometimes I miss that child, too.
But, for
now, I am content with him for who he is, not afraid of his great potential and not
afraid to make mistakes…to learn from them…continuing to plug away at some things
that are challenging for him.
Missed opportunity
Sadly I had missed
an opportunity to tell him about forgiveness, the essence of what my faith is
all about. I didn’t tell him that
God’s promises are new every morning, or that he could start fresh at any
time. I didn’t tell him he was
loved and forgiven…that we would get through this somehow, together. I didn’t
even tell him that I was content with who he was at that moment, even though I
had written it in my journal. I just
kept emphasizing that I wanted him to “plug away” at things that seemed to be
so important. I didn’t understand that depression and substance abuse can steal
the enthusiasm, the confidence, the spunkiness. I thought he had to push
through it, plug away at it. I thought that medication and counseling would
“fix” him so I kept…“Going over the same old ground”. I didn’t fully “get” that
he was so unhappy with who he was back then or why. Depression.
I missed a
“moment”.
I regret
that now as I look back on those difficult times.
Fast Forward
But fast
forward to this past weekend. I
had a visit from my other son, his wife and their daughter. Our house was full of the patter of
two-year-old granddaughter feet.
The weekend was busy and as we drove downtown to visit the children’s
museum with my daughter and all of my grand children, I hear on the radio the
very song by Pink Floyd that my son sang for the Variety Show way back then…
“And
did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?
And
how we found
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.”[1]
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.”[1]
Suddenly,
I had tears in my eyes as I recalled that heartbreaking conversation with my
son from years ago. It all came flooding back to me. I just did not get it back then. I think I do now.
But in
that moment, hearing the words to that song, I had such a longing for my son,
their brother, to be with us NOW. I wanted my family to be together and I
softly whispered to myself, “Wish you were here.”
Later
on that evening we were all together for dinner at our house. The kids were running around the house giggling
and playing. There was much laughter, talking and reminiscing. My two adult children were looking at
videos from Christmas years ago.
This was fun…and as we were watching the clips, there appeared on the
screen, the “little boy” brother who was not with us today…so cute, so
sweet…that child that was “happy”.
This was the “Boy Self” that my son missed when he was going through
those dark adolescent days.
Those dark
days are hopefully long behind us…and we are moving forward day by day, week by
week. But as I spent this weekend
with my family, there was one missing
link. Our son was home in
Wisconsin, working and living his own life.
So I
sent him a text that said, “Wish you were here”.
And I
did. I just missed him.
