"While you're tightening the straps, ponder the wacky possibility that the people you're trying to save don't need saving."*
My 20-year old son arrived at our rented lake house to join us on our vacation and within the first hour announced that in two weeks, he'd be taking a road trip with a couple friends....to Milwaukee, Wisconsin via Philadelphia, New York City, and Chicago. Whoosh - the feeling of a punch in my stomach knocked the wind out of me. The calm and joy of several days into my vacation was wiped out in an instant and the tension rose to my throat.
For over a year, he has been dying for an adventure and craving a road trip.
"Why don't you fly to Wisconsin?" I asked.
"Well....because the road trip is the point....not Wisconsin really," he replied patiently.
Mind you, he wasn't asking me to go on a road trip. At twenty, he was courteously telling me his plans, clearly charted and ready to execute solo.
My husband and I are not good car riders. We're both poor with directions; I have a problem with my depth perception and use my air break too much whenever anyone else drives; we get impatient and antsy beyond a four-hour trip. We'd never attempt driving in a big city. Aggressive drivers make me crazy. We don't even drive in Boston if we don't have to - the train or bus is our preferred method of travel there.
My son and I talked out his plans, and I blasted him with all my concerns. He held firm.
It took me a day to mull it over, look at it from all sides. At twenty-one, I spent a college semester in London and traveled around Europe at a time when young people weren't doing any such thing. It was before computers, cell phones, or any communication outside long distance calls and letter-writing. My Mom was hosting a barbecue on the day Frank was driving me to Logan Airport to embark on my own adventure. I went out to the backyard to say good-bye. "Oh, are you going?" my Mom said casually. "Well have a good time!" I was leaving for six months.
Later, she told me, of course, she was nervous, but she didn't show it and that was the kindest, most expansive, most wonderful parenting trait she could have shown towards me. I got onto that plane for the great beyond, elated, and full of positive thoughts - no fear. And....that adventure remains one of the most joyous times in my life and one I'm so thankful I took.
The final argument in my head about my own son was that he could be in Afghanistan fighting a war; he could have gone into the army at eighteen like a friend of mine's son did. Let's keep things in perspective, I told myself. Let go. Let the man, no longer a boy, take a road trip in the U.S. of A. if that's the adventure he wanted to take. So I did....
...and upon his return, all smiles, his increased confidence emanating from his being, fun photos...I told him he had been right. And now that he had done that, I truly felt he could do anything. I told him I could and would let go. The three, with their GPS and iPhones, found their way halfway across the country and visited the sites that mattered to them. They were responsible, efficient, and 110% capable.
I don't need to tighten, and will even do damage if I try. My son doesn't need saving.
Photo: hummingbird at Loon Lake, Rangeley, Maine
*Source: Digh, Patti. Life is a Verb. Guilford, Connecticut: skirt! The Globe Pequot Press, 2008. Print. P. 120
www.lifeisaverb.net
www.pattidigh.com
