What a week it’s been. My son has been home for only seven days, but they have been an intense seven days. Seven days for me to examine not only him, but myself, for both of us have been in Marine boot camp.
Well, he was at Camp Pendleton in San Diego. I was upstairs in my own little room. But I assure you, the rigors we went through were comparable. While he was exercising his muscles, and expanding his mental capabilities, I was in remedial motherhood.
I knew better than to expect him to come home completely changed as everyone told me. “You won’t recognize him!” my friends exclaimed. I recognize him all right. He’s still thin, he’s still polite, he’s still determined to do things his own way, and he still seeks social interaction with others above all else.
I hate social interaction! Well, I like it in my blog. I like it at church. I like it in the teacher’s lounge once in awhile. But given the choice, I’d prefer to be by myself any day of the week. I like reading. I like introspection. I like quiet. I like togetherness with those few I hold close to my heart.
I need to temper my expectations. For while they are almost impossible for me to achieve for myself, they are surely impossible for my son. I am the Queen of Wanting More. More time with him. More close discussions. More assurance of my value to him as a mother.
I can’t live off of someone else’s assurances. I can’t live with my own impossibly high standards. The Bible reminds me, “in quietness and trust is your strength.” Isaiah 30:15
Surely that is stronger than anything produced by my own efforts.