Wow. I really don't get it. My missionary son is coming home three weeks from today and I should be ecstatic, thrilled, joyous, (all the other words that apply). And actually there are moments when I do feel like that. But there is this underlying fear in me. It is similar to the way I felt when he left, but not as intense. So I am making a guess as to what is going on with me. And maybe, just maybe, it will help to write about it.
I think that the pain when he left was more about change than the absence of him. Not that I didn't miss him. I did. But the bigger pain was about change. I think. After a few months and after I knew he was okay and happy, I adjusted. In fact, I have loved my life this last year or so. I have loved the closeness that Rocky and I have developed. I love how my time is mainly my own. I love how my house usually stays pretty clean so I can focus on my hobbies more. AND most of all, I have loved the letters from this son. He has written to me every single week except a rare few. He has also emailed me almost every single week. I have seen inside of him I could not have seen in any other way. I have watched him grow and develop his great personality and talents. I HAVE LOVED IT.
So, I have come to the conclusion that I really don't want him to come home. I don't want CHANGE. I like it the way it is right now. I am afraid of the change that will come. But at the same time I miss him so much that it hurts and want to see him and want to be part of his life more on a daily basis. Okay. I get it. I am really not easy to please, am I?
But I guess what I am going to do is keep telling myself that I will adjust and that this will be a wonderful adjustment in my life. I know that in my head. Let's get the heart in on this too.
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