“Being deeply loved gives you strength, loving deeply gives you courage.” Lao Tzu
I love that quote. I had never seen that one before until someone posted it on Facebook. It reminds me of my marriage and the love I have for my husband first of all. After that I think of my Dad. It may sound weird but I would do anything to protect these two men.
Feeling down…and worried but what else is new? One of the few good things I was happy and excited about has come to an end. I was so excited about my stepson being in the Navy. I thought it was a good opportunity for him: a way for him to build self-confidence and independence, plus get money for his future: for college, a new truck, and a down payment on a house. I was also excited about going on a trip near Chicago to see him graduate from basic training, couldn’t wait to see him in uniform. My husband just booked our room for the trip and we put off doing anything else this fall just so we would have enough money and time off to see our son graduate. I even joined a Navy Mom forum to get information about the Navy and had started forming relationships with other moms whose son’s were in the same division as my stepson. Well all that excitement and planning is in ruins. My stepson called on Sunday and said he is coming home.
I almost didn’t answer the phone. I was trying to work on homework and was having trouble getting moving on it. The phone rang and I thought, “UGH! I can’t talk to anybody right now.” Good thing I thought better of it and looked at the caller id– the call was from a payphone. I fleetingly thought it might be a political poll or advertisement that we seem to be inundated with during election years. But then I had the happy thought it might be my stepson so I answered the phone. It was my stepson! I was thrilled to hear from him but also a little perturbed because his dad wasn’t home. He said that was okay, he could call his Dad on his cell. I thought that was odd, and that he was even able to call at all– recruits really only get 2, maybe 3 phone calls the whole time they are in boot camp. My stepson had only been gone not quite 2 weeks.
I asked how he was, how was boot camp? He had to tell me his unexpected news, that he would be coming home soon. How hard it must have been for him! –with me so excited. Right away I was concerned– what was wrong, was he alright? He said he was alright ‘now’ but he was coming home because he was depressed. I said his name…I felt dismayed and worried in an instant. I had to sit down. All the plans, all the excitement, all the hope and happiness crumbled.
My stepson told me he had been really homesick and that ‘they’ had been coming down really hard on him. My heart went out to him. I told him I had been worried about him being homesick. I was too…that very first night after he left I started a letter to him, despite not having his address yet, because I felt he was probably homesick.
Then he said that he had hurt his back and the doctor had sent him to see a psychiatrist who diagnosed him as depression, unspecified. My stepson he would be home in a couple of weeks and that he had plans. “Oh you have plans have you” was what I said, kind of harshly but I didn’t mean to sound so; I just wanted him to be okay and not worried about anything. He went on and talked on about dreams he had before the idea of the Navy had taken hold, he talked of how he would have to get a job right away because he had bills to pay. I just wanted him to make sure he was alright, I told him he could worry about all that when he got home. I asked him again if he was alright and he said he was. I let him go so he could call his Dad.
I felt disbelief as I hung up the phone…that and I was so worried I didn’t know what to do with myself. Then I got angry too…not at my stepson but at the whole situation. So all this warred within me the rest of that day and actually still does but more about that later. That evening I really felt bad, down, depressed. I wanted to go to my stepson to make sure he was okay. It is weird but I need to see him, to touch him to make sure he is really alright. I am not a touchy-feely kind of person either. I kept getting an image of a mother checking her baby over, touching its arms and legs to make sure it was okay. That is just strange because I keep telling myself my stepson is not my baby and I have worked hard to remind myself of this over the years, to not feel that…but that urge, an impulse is still there. There is something within in me– not matter how hard I try to suppress it– that demands for me to care (though at times I don’t want to) and to fight for what is best for my stepson, oftentimes regardless of my own well-being. That protective urge is strongest now, in this current situation. I feel quite silly but also vindicated. See, stepmothers feel for their stepchildren (this I have always known)– they feel a mother’s love…and also some women, even though they have not given birth, are not a biological mother, can still have a mother’s instinct (this too, I have always known). Of course I also know that my stepson, as an 18-year-old, may not want nor fully appreciate any mothering from me.
I, me, vindicated me, vindicated in lots of ways– I got a little pissed at myself. For all my mother instinct I feel I possess, I let that boy go into the Navy when I had my doubts about it. Oh yeah, I was exited and proud. I hoped for the best for him and I let him go. I let my excitement, my needs, carry me away. I feel I let my stepson down because of that. I should have pushed more for him to look at other options…I did at first but I let it go. I didn’t want to seem non-supportive, didn’t want to be accused as being so either. You know the old evil stepmother myth…the bitch, the interloper, the one who is seen as ‘who does she think she is’ and ‘what does she know’ crazy naysayer.
I don’t know…maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. Lord knows the people or the person (and I am not referring to my poor stepson) who actually should be hard on themselves, who should be feeling bad probably aren’t feeling half as bad as I am. But I begin to digress. No time for that now. I can’t be thinking about myself or those stupid others (for what do they matter?)– I have to think about my stepson first and foremost because I am extremely worried about him. I talked with my husband over the phone calls from our son. We are both worried, sad and angry (but not at him). We worry about his future and how he is going to feel once he gets home. How are people going to treat him? Will he be able to deal with his feeling of letting people down? I know he hasn’t let us down no matter all the frustrated excitement and plans.
This is one fine, complicated mess. There is more to the story but I can’t write about it now…don’t know if I should. I need to explore the situation– my feelings, my emotions– for myself. I need to deal with all my motherly instincts, put them in their proper place. I do need to write about the whole situation, from beginning to end, in order to gain perspective and to ascertain the best way to help my stepson, if I am needed to. I just can’t wait until he gets home.
O M G… I needed a good laugh. I am sitting at work just chillin’ in the break room before I go home. I hear the grill person talking about some music he was listening to yesterday– he sings this old jam… “That girl is poison…”
That really surprised me and I say, “That’s old! That was out when I was a teen!” Then I had to play the video on my computer. Hilarious, these kids jamming to music from before they were born (the song is from 1990)…my one co-worker tells me he was born in 1990. I can imagine the other one is around the same age.
“Poison” by Bel Biv Devoe
That line “Never trust a big butt and a smile” cracks me up. The song made me take a trip down memory lane so next I had to play “Humpy Dance”:
Which made me think of Sir Mix A Lot’s “Baby Got Back”….
Then my co-worker peaks in the break room and says, “Play some Vanilla Ice!” and then “Next is ‘Hammertime’!”
Oh my…
The dancing! The lyrics! The BUTTS! Those PANTS!
*
…. And I wasted an hour, LOL.
My husband and I saw my stepson off to boot camp today. He was sworn into the Navy this morning and boarded a bus to where he will be training– about 5 hours away from us in another state. On the whole I would have to say I am excited for him and proud. I was only a little sad today. I feel like he is ready though.
I started to cry a little bit at the ceremony and as we said our goodbyes but I gave myself a mental slap so I wouldn’t become a blubbering idiot– not good for the kid (he will always be a kid to me) to see that. I told myself to straighten up and it is always comforting to hide behind a camera. 😉 I had my tears yesterday after I dropped him off at the recruiters office (so they could take him to get ready to go to boot camp); As I did a little grocery shopping I cried and hoped that no one noticed. I thought about all the time that has passed, the little boy I met years ago. How can it be that he is 18 already? And that he is moving away?
But then I had to collect myself because I’m one tough broad, ha… I am truly happy and excited for my stepson too. He is doing something that he wants to do, something good for his future. It will be an adventure! I kind of envy him. With so many changes happening in my life over the past 16 months or so, this is one of the more positive situations I have had to deal with. No need to get all silly and maudlin about over it. Of course one must acknowledge one’s emotions…but one must manage them too, even if they are a mixed up mess. Ha. I try.
It helped that my husband and I got to see our son before he left, and even that he lived with us these last months. We had dinner with the kid last night, had a few laughs. It was great to see him off today. Now I can’t wait to see him in his uniform and can’t wait to find out where he will be going.
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