Sarah has been home since the first of June. She leaves Saturday going back to Ohio where she lives with her dad. I know grandmothers are supposed to be used to the grandchildren living elsewhere, but Sarah spent her first 9 years in my home, sometimes with her parents, but much of it without them. So, to say there is an immense hole in my home and heart when she isn't here is an understatement. This month has given me back laughter and joy.
I loved being a mom. I had so much fun with my boys and I missed it when they left. It has been the same with Sarah when she came into our lives.
I'm always fascinated by kids. They're amazing creatures and watching their development, their mental growth is just awesome. Who and what they'll be is a mystery that is solved over time. If we're blessed, we'll see the solution.
I am always stunned when I see myself in Sarah. We share a love of deep conversation. She's a skilled listener in those moments. I can't tell you when I've discussed issues of faith and prayer and the Bible so much with one person. She is open to discussion, and she asks questions. That's half the battle with teens. But she has far more understanding than I expect. Several years ago, I commented on this to her and she said; I listen when I am in church. It showed. Her attentiveness hasn't waned as I expected and this time with her has refreshed my spirit. It has reminded me of the late-night conversations with Mama and how we would sometimes talk for hours when everyone in the house was sound asleep. It is what I miss most about Mama. But Sarah has the gift.
We also share a similar sense of humor. She's always joking or saying things that have a humorous twist. I'm reminded of a text I read once that said humor is a sigh of intelligence. I'm not talking about playing pranks or making fun of people, that's shifts into psychopathy. Genuine humor isn't about that. She's mastered the art of understatement and I've often been nearly hysterical at things she says.
The month has done more than give me some happiness. I've regained a fragile hope. You worry, you know. When they go through dark times, you worry they won't come out of it. Many children don't. She's lived through a lot of dark times in 16 years. She's done some really stupid things. Children do that. It is how they grow. Life is a series of tests. But what I've seen in the last month, tells me the Sarah I know is still in there. The humor, kindness, compassion, and love I've always seen in her is intact. But she's fighting dragons. And fighting dragons is exhausting. However, seeing the craving for understanding the Bible, her desire to grow her faith, and her desire to learn more are positive signs that she will not let the dragons eat her. Not without a fight.
Dragons are real. They come in all shapes, sizes, and guises. Facing them takes tremendous determination, strength, and courage. I know this from experience. Thank goodness I had a Sword and Shield and Mama.
As our time ends, I see a strength in Sarah that I feared she did not have. She's fighting dragons between moments of despair. But she's fighting.
Jerry and I tried to provide our sons with the same weapons. I may have failed them, but I hope not. Still, I made a greater effort to arm Sarah with weapons that could slay dragons. I've spent more time sharing my battles with dragons. We're so afraid of letting our children know about the dragons we face and the battles we lost. That's a mistake. If you want to encourage your children to fail, don't let them see your dragons. And hide your scars. Pretend there are no dragons. Tell them they're the problem, not dragons. Send them out with no warning, no defense, and no faith in them.
Dragons will eat them.
