This is the hardest part of relocating. For the first time in thirty-seven years, I will not be living in the same community as my son. My only child.
I know, in the larger scheme of things, that this is good for both of us. He gets to move fully into independent manhood.
Even though he has not lived with me for the past eighteen years, this is still big for both of us. He has disabilities that make his life difficult. A stroke at age five weeks left him painfully dyslexic and hemiplegic. He walks–gimpily–but doesn’t drive a car. A life-threatening heart defect required open heart surgery at twenty-two months. He suffers from hard-to-treat chronic pain–partly from the effects of the stroke, partly from fibromyalgia. He’s undergone corneal transplants because of a condition called keratoconus, and although his eyesight is serviceable, it’s not great.
He shoulders on, gifted with courage, a dark sense of humor, a flair for writing, and a pull to the non-dual view.
Like every one of us, he is perfectly imperfect. Unique.
My task is to remain present, to notice when the mind wanders into a worried, non-existent future, and to come home.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2012
13 thoughts on “leaving my son”
I commend your and your son’s courage. I take the view that we’re all disabled or have special needs in one respect or another and that we all need each other’s help. Why disabilities? In biblical terms, ‘to reveal the glory of God’. I take this to mean that the spirit gains greater clarity and shines more clearly by coming to terms with difficulties. Christ’s miracles were an image for this. Your son has a special clarity in his eyes and I hope he has the chance to shine more brightly!
This is a most wonderful comment. A wonderful way to think of Christ’s miracles. I will have to borrow some of these words. thank you so much!
A note from here to there – wherever you and your loved ones are ‘there’ right now – to let you know I’m thinking of you, and hoping that you’ve been carried on a wave of peace as you’ve all moved.
This piece on your son touched my heart very deeply; he will stay in my heart prayers always.
Oh, my, thank you, Catherine.
Yes, although moving has chaos, and the body is quite tired, peace reigns.
I’m feeling the pull to write tomorrow. We hung pictures today. Still some boxes, but probably 85% are unpacked.
I talked to my son Friday. He seemed fine. We’ll Skype soon, since my desktop is up and running.
Wow. You have suffered a great deal on behalf of your son. It will be interesting to see where your respective journeys take you now. You have learned to be strong already. It will serve you well now.
Dearest Amrita, I cherish your posts and look forward to staying in touch with you after you move. Thanks for posting this beautiful picture of your sweet boy. I had no idea the move was coming this soon. Call me please? I leave Saturday early am for a cruise and would love to talk with you anytime before then. Nicole
Dear Amrita, I have been wondering about you and if you were
“leaving “each other physically for the first time. I love seeing this early on photo and remembering hoe adorable he was . I honour you and all your loving aware work and wish for you a great move. Blessings and Love , Barkat Rose
Thank you, dear one! Think of me and the four-leggeds as I drive down next Monday…..
What a lot you’ve both been through. I can imagine what a challenge it is to stay in equanimity when facing leaving. You’re good at it though. That’s a darling picture.
Our home closed and recorded this morning! We’re moving Monday. Wow.
Congrats. I’ll send Reiki and thoughts for a safe and easy journey. Looking forward to coffee in the spring.
Thank you! I’ll open to the Reiki! Include our two four-leggeds, please, who will travel with me: Emma the smooth (carsick) collie, and Maggie the Scottish deerhound…
What a gosh-darned cutie!!!