Thinking about my son in the Air Force this morning, I was trying to figure a way to explain to him how it is going to be at his first duty station. BMT aside, he will be bombarded with a different way of life, new environment, job, people, training. Knowing my son like I do, I can hear what he’s going to say in response. “Mom, I did that when I went to work at the hospital”. Now while this is true, he did learn and has excelled there.
What IS different is when he left there in the evening, he came home, got together with friends and basically still maintained his normal “constant” life which makes it easier. It keeps you from being overwhelmed. I guess in a way its baby steps.
Then, I was thinking about Lost and the episode with Desmond and Penny. He needed a Constant in order to get back to where he was. If you don’t watch, fine, it doesn’t matter.
When I told David I didn’t want to go through the whole Air Force experience again, he told me I wasn’t. He was. That’s not entirely true. I’m his Constant. Mom, home, familiarity. Ground wire. I will be involved and there's no way around it. He'll need my support and it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.
My panic attacks started about my 5th year in the military, when I was around 25. I had just gotten married, moved to Texas and was settling in. We’d been there about 9 months and received orders to Germany. The reason I mention this is because that’s when I started feeling a “lack of control”. Looking back, I realize joining an organization where I had no control was the worst thing I could have done, given my upbringing.
All I did was, in a way, add fuel to the fire. I’m just beginning to realize this at 53 with my only child…Constant…about to leave to go FAR away. He is getting ready to take me back to the time in my life which brought me pain. No, not the Air Force per se, but the lack of control. No, I’m not trying to control him by not wanting him to go. Why he chose this direction is another post. Any other direction and I would have been fine, well except for drugs, prison, etc. and yes, I’m extremely thankful and very proud of him.
When I was 4 ½ happily playing at a Halloween party, I had no idea my Dad’s plane had just crashed and he was gone. To this day, I can remember the party, where we lived and a few other unimportant facts. I cannot remember my Dad. Even saying the name sounds foreign to me. Mom said we were very close. My brother has asked since way back, why don’t you want to talk about him? Well, it’s like talking about a stranger. I don’t know what to say. Mom was left to piece together what our life had become and I believe I was just floating around with no ground wire. She had major things to think about, like feeding us and surviving, so I do not fault her at all. She did a wonderful job. God bless her. However, when we were in our teens, unfortunately Mom became an alcoholic. So, just imagine Debbie and Mike just floating around and without knowing, desperately looking for something to hold on to.
Good grief…fast forward. Military, married and had David after 7 years of marriage. A child grounds you immediately and is most definitely a Constant. He is to this day, the most important thing in my life. I believe a good marriage can be a Constant. Finding a career you love doing is a Constant. David was 14 when we separated and 21 when we actually divorced. We have both remained friends and agree David is our priority. There went that Constant for me. In the middle of the separation, I lost my Mom who was my best friend and a big Constant. David had one more year of high school at that point. Zoom zoom…David had 2 years of college and has decided to join Air Force and will be gone out there somewhere, not even realizing he even needs a Constant…yet.
An hour ago, before I started typing, I really did have a realization to share. It’s happening to me already. I’m floating again, just loose energy with no ground wire. Where does it go? What happens to it? Does it survive? With no form is it even anything?
What or who is your Constant and does this make any sense?
7 comments:
Wow, Deb! Now you've got me thinking. I mean, that really serious kind of thinking. I'm gonna have to get back to you on this...but I promise I will!
Our experience in life affect our persception. Having said that and truely believing it I hope you see that your son is comfortable with going into the AF. Why not? YOU have been and always will be his "constant". You gave him the confidence to achieve it. YOU did. Where you lost your dad, and had other baggage, he doesn't have the same baggage, isn't that great? You did a good job with and for him. The AF, he will have the same comfort there knowing his mother did it and he must feel you did ok. I hope you see the positive in this, I feel it should be very flattering to you that your son, your only son, feels so comfortable and connected with you that he wants to go into life, something of a great challenge, knowing he will be following the footsteps of the one he loves most.YOU, HIS CONSTANT.
My mother has been my constant, and then my husband, and my kids.With my son gone, part of my constant is now gone. When your kid leaves the nest successfully--not in trouble, not in jail--then you know you've done your job properly. However, it hurts like hell.That pain of separation is a constant that I'd rather do without. But...we all have to deal with it eventually.You mentioned your dad an how you lost him when you were very young. I lost my dad when I was 17 very suddenly to a heart attack. We didn't have the best relationship when he was alive. However, on the day that I dropped my son off at the recruiter station and said goodbye...I managed to not cry in front of my son, my daughters or my husband. I kept it all in. Then after we got home I got back in my car to drive a bit, and found myself at my father's grave. There, I sat on his gravesite and cried for about 20 minutes, telling him how hard it was to let go of a kid. He never lived to experience that. So I told him how it felt.Then I brushed myself off, got in my car and bought a yellow ribbon for my door. For my constant. Part of my heart now lives in San Antonio.
Makes perfect sense! Your post left me with a lot of thinking to do. :)A wonderful read.
You are a lucky lady to have such a good son. It is not fun when they leave the nest but it is part of life and you just have to try to let go. I have three sons and it was so hard to see them go but they always came back to Mom. That is your constant that you are their Mom.I too lost my Father at age 7 years old after WWII and 5 major battles. It wasn't fair and I missed so much not having him but I do remember him. I just lost my Mother last month and I mniss her so much.. She was my constant.Good Luck to your sonGod Bless YouHugsPatti
DebbieGround yourselfhttp://img54.imageshack.us/img54/7522/tree2sh.jpgFeel the energy of Mother Earth come right up through your body.AND.... you lean on your friends.We'll be here for you.LoviesDeb in Ohio
Debbie, I stopped by to say thank you for your nice comment, but I find myself somber and humbled and pensive instead. This was such a beautifully-written post. I have never been where you are -- either place -- but my gut tells me that your son should hear this, or at least some of this. Military moms and dads, straighten me out if I am wrong . . . but it's so powerful and elemental, it feels like something a son would want to know -- that one of his parents is this deep and well-spoken.He probably already knows.Thank you for sharing this.-- Laurie
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