A Grief Conserved
I cry a little every day.
Veterans told me sending him
off to college would be hard but I did not expect to feel forsaken. Parting’s sweet sorrow? Like hell. No, its more a coarse sawing much like when that hiker had to amputate his arm in order to free himself. That’s how this feels – cutting away the firstborn’s life from tight family formations. He has long now been not only my only boy but my right hand. The humbling boon of a son who has also grown to be my friend. But it must be, and will be well. Still I cry a little every day.
off to college would be hard but I did not expect to feel forsaken. Parting’s sweet sorrow? Like hell. No, its more a coarse sawing much like when that hiker had to amputate his arm in order to free himself. That’s how this feels – cutting away the firstborn’s life from tight family formations. He has long now been not only my only boy but my right hand. The humbling boon of a son who has also grown to be my friend. But it must be, and will be well. Still I cry a little every day.
Of course,I wasnt there when you left bro David and Anna, but I bet the best cow on our place,they cried
Knowing your family,I bet he cried
And God bless yall
This. It will make my husband cry, but I’ll show it to him anyway. He knows this so well. So do I. Thank you.
I have three years to prepare for this day. I need a lot more therapy before then. Possibly meds. We would not want them not to go. Even so. Thinking of you.
I have lived this and in some ways l am living it still. You tell of the fracturing of a parent’s spirit well. Healing of the broken can and will come. My youngest just started her sophmore year of college. The silence? It is heavy. But we are learning to dance and sing again. The song is a new one.
Oh, yes. The wrenching. Ultimately, it is a good, necessary, healthy one, but in the beginning? It hurts. A lot. Bless you – and him.
Yes, we’re in the midst of the second wrenching, and my grown-up self is thrilled for him. He has roots and wings, and his bedroom sits empty waiting for him to visit, but oh . . .
I cried a little reading this.
John this is beautiful. I prided myself on being OK when my first son went to college. I was in a good place bymy counts but I missed the depth of feeling and I think he did too. I leArned from my parents to Be philosophical about life. Accept it and what not. I suspect losing two children (they were to lose one more) was how they coped. I learned well. Now I am unlearning.
My God it hurts. Three times. But I see them in the birds’ flight and each call is a homecoming of sorts.
yes… such sorrow deep inside, the coarse sawing… but, it will bring you to a deeper friendship, still.
I’m there. First-born. Identifying well with that coarse saw. And understanding what someone else wrote above about the silence being heavy. Feeling like limbs being torn off all the while knowing there is a new tree growing and sprouting and blossoming and what a beauty it is growing to be. There is no how-to guide for hurts like this…Just cry every day.
There’s good medicine in calling your parents, and understanding they, too, felt that sawing.
This is how I felt last year, sending off my daughter as a freshman. Probably will feel this way again in about 48 hours…