choices

Hard Choices and Parental Guilt

They make you second guess everything. They make you sit back and mull over all of the events leading up to the need for said choice. They make you rethink everything you have ever done when it comes to making that hard choice and they leave you wondering if the choice made was the right one once you actually make it!

My hard choice is still a hard choice. I’m over the second guessing myself, because I know in my heart that I made the right one…but it is still hard emotionally. Emotionally, I am torn. I am torn between what I know is right and what I want. But what I want is not based upon anything other than soothing my own emotional discomfort.

My hard decision was this: allowing my son to stay with my parents when my little family moved from my parents home into our own home in a different school district and county. Truth be told, it was a positive decision for him. My son is happy. He is doing well in school. He is making good choices and learning to do things that he needs to learn. Why did I allow him to stay? Well, he finally felt settled into a highschool and I didn’t want to move him. He is surrounded by friends that are good influences. He gets to be the only child that he wants to be while still maintaining a relationship with his younger siblings. But most importantly, he is happy.

I, on the otherhand, am pretty torn up. I miss my kid. I miss his goofiness. I miss his jokes and telling me all about some new game he is into or how he is trying something new with his lizards. I miss him being there in the morning and at night. Being physically seperate from him for an extended period of time like this is not okay and I feel guilt. I feel massive guilt.

Honestly, the massive guilt is probably why I feel so crappy. I really am thrilled that my son is happy and healthy and doing well. I am so fortunate to have parents who love my son so much that they would be okay with him living with them on a permanent basis. But that guilt…it’s brutal. And it eats at me at every possible moment.

I feel guilt for not being able to provide for my kid the way he needs. I feel guilt for not having the kind of relationship with my son that I had hoped we would have. I feel guilt for allowing someone other than myself to care for him. He is my first. The one who made me a mother 16 years ago. A young mother. And I think that is where it all comes to a point. I was a young mother. Not all young mothers have the same relationship with their children as I have with my son. Some grow to be inseperable. My son formed that bond with my mother rather than me, I think, because I was so young when I had him. I was barely more than a child-not even a month past my 20th birthday-when I had him. I needed her more than I knew and being a mother was something I had not planned on doing until faced with it realizing I couldn’t NOT be a mother because of what was in my own heart versus what society expected of me. And so I had him and cherished him (I still do) and I made the hard decision to allow him to live away from me.

I couldn’t ask for two better people than my parents to teach him, though. I am beyond blessed that they love him so much and are willing to look out for him and teach him and help him to become a good man. There is no lack of appreciation there, or gratitude, for their selflessness and generosity.

But this is hard. Harder than I ever imagined it would be. And even though I know this is what is best for my child, and as a parent I want to do what is best, it still hurts.

It All Boils Down To Hate

“Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in the world, but has not solved one yet.”
― Maya Angelou

The events of this past weekend were, simply put, a tragedy. I am not going to argue over whether it was a religious thing, a terrorist thing, or a homophobic thing. To me, it was an act of hatred, plain and simple.

Hate.

I don’t know if I have ever felt true hate. I have felt true love and there is an old cliche that says “there is a thin line between love and hate”. I prefer to keep my toes on the love side of the line. I feel as though, however, I am part of a minority in making this choice.

I do not claim to be particularly religious. I do not claim to be a Christian, although I was baptized into the Southern Baptist Church and taught Sunday school to kindergartners for 7 years. I walked away from that church, from that belief system when I could no longer justify the hate, bigotry, and discrimination against fellow human beings coming from people who claimed to love Jesus Christ, a man who supped with tax collectors & thieves, prostitutes & heathens alike. I walked away from religion, organized Western religion, and began my own long path of spirituality. And what I found was amazing: I prefer to walk in love and light than allow the shadow of hate to cover my thoughts, actions, and feelings. My heart finally felt free. But then, I realized I was doing something I had not thought I would ever be able to do: love my fellow man unconditionally.

It isn’t easy. And yes, I dislike a great many people. But that does not stop my heart from feeling pain for their sorrows and misfortunes. That does not stop the tears from falling from my eyes when I see people hurt, harmed, or wronged. Because I believe that all of humanity deserves love, regardless of what kind of people they are and all of humanity deserves compassion for the private pain they may not reveal and all of humanity needs kindness to help heal the hurts inflicted by others.

I love my fellow man. I LOVE my fellow man so much that I could never bring myself to harm one, despite whatever difference of opinion or beliefs we may have. And so, these horrible events, these mass shootings, bombings, acts of terror…they are acts of hate. And despite the fact they are acts of hate, despite the fact that they have caused pain and suffering, my heart will still grieve for those who have committed these atrocities just as they grieve for those who are the victims. Because they were committed by men, fellow members of the human race, however, I will still hold love for them and ask the Universe to help their souls find peace. I will love these terrible people who hold hate in their hearts and souls for those who oppose their views and beliefs. I will love them and hope that, one day, others will walk the same rocky path that I am committed to following. For it is only when we come together and love each other unconditionally, without prejudices, without motives, without expectations, that we will be able to move past these terrible, hateful acts that have torn another whole into the fabric of our lives. May our willingness be the needle and our unconditional love the string to mend our ripped and torn souls so we can heal.

“Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes.”
― Ella Wheeler Wilcox