Finding meaning in life is a worthwhile journey, although sad for mom

Published 12:58 pm Sunday, July 29, 2007

One of my sons has found summer employment he truly loves. He’s been hired by a private company and is fighting fires on his summer vacation. I, meanwhile, have received empathetic hugs from other mothers who know this job is bound to cause maternal anxieties galore.

This is the same kid who used to be concerned with what to write when he returned to school, since all he had done was play baseball and travel to tournaments.

“We really need to go to Disneyland,” he’d say.

I used to hate those obligatory essays, feeling like I’d failed my children because we didn’t have the funds for fancy adventures. I got over it, though, when it seemed they were growing up relatively undamaged from this huge gap in my parenting abilities.

Now, at 19, he has the makings of an essay that would cause his classmates to gasp in amazement – and he’s getting paid instead of shelling out his hard-earned savings. He returned from his first fire a week and a day ago, and now is out fighting his second.

When he got home he seemed different. In two short weeks he’d moved many giant steps into manhood. Suddenly, he was making lists of what he needed, and – here’s the big change – going to the store himself instead of handing his lists to me.

Like any mother, I greet these changes with dramatically mixed feelings. I ache for the child that’s fading away, and applaud the adult that’s emerging. After all, I constantly remind myself, that’s my job – to raise them to adulthood, and to relish the adults they become.

His older brother, who is presently (and by no means permanently) laboring in the fast food industry in a galaxy far, far away was home when he returned. Like a fly on the wall, I got to overhear their first exchange.

“How was it,” big brother asked.

“It was really cool,” his baby bro replied. “We saved six ranches and a town.”

Here was the long pause.

“I fed fat people,” the older brother replied.

There was a long pause and then they went out the door together – the two who did everything possible to be as separate as possible just a few years ago.

Meanwhile, a few weeks ago I bumped into a man, J.D. Lambert, who’s the same age as my oldest son. He introduced me to his beautiful boy. I remember seeing this boy defy balance and show strength on the football field. I saw him as a boy and now I was looking at his boy – bright and strong.

It’s out of our hands now. They go off to pursue careers, fight fires and fight in wars. They grow and make choices, and some of them give us grandchildren. It takes some of them longer to find their way as adults, while others seem to be going at warp speed.

Remember when we wondered if they’d ever get toilet trained? Those were the days, my friend.

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Home Front, by EO Community Editor Terry Murry, appears every other Sunday.