About a month ago my identity was questioned. “I feel like because you had Joe so young, you didn’t get a chance to really explore who you are” or some variation of that was said… Whatever the exact wording was, I don’t remember. I do remember confidently answering the statement and defending my personal character. Sure I had Joe when I was 16, but I knew who I was. I pride myself on the infinite number of self-help and personal development books I have read. I’ve always made sure that I was an individual, more than just a Mom. I truly, whole heartedly believed that at 29 I knew who I was. I mean, really knew who I was, the core of me. I’m the biggest self improvement buff I know! I felt like I had been here, there and everywhere. Experienced enough, lived through enough, fought through enough, cried enough, laughed enough, loved enough to really know ME. I wasn’t a lost soul or a misguided spirit. I was grounded, steady, confident, and quite sure of myself.
Two days ago I lost my identity. My son recited a well rehearsed speech as moving and as touching as something MLK Jr. himself could deliver. After 12 years of growing up with Joe, he wanted the opportunity to know his Dad. He wanted to give up the city life and live the small town life. He wanted to stay in California. He wanted to be close to his family. And he wanted to be taken seriously. For each concern I presented he had a well thought out rebuttal. The only ammunition I had on my side, the only thing that I could argue, was the fact that I don’t know life without Joe. I don’t know how to live life outside of being a Mom. But who’s fault is that? Not Joe’s.
Sometimes I feel like my intuition is a mute elf living inside me, hands fluttering around signing words faster than humanly possible…and I am not fluent in sign language. It’s inside me, it speaks to me, I just don’t always understand what it’s trying to convey. Twelve days ago when I watched Joe walk down the corridor towards the plane, I knew. I knew something wasn’t right, this trip wasn’t like the others. Something was different, but I didn’t know what. I cried like an idiot as I walked through DIA, onto the train, and out to my car. I knew.
A month ago the questioning of my identity was easy to answer. It’s easy when you are certain of things. So I answered with pure certainty. But I answered as a mother, not an individual. Things aren’t so certain anymore.
Awww, Sylvia! You're an amazing woman! You deserve this and I think you are super brave! I understand feeling lost without Joe and at first I read the second blog before the first one and I was scared that he was leaving for good. I'm so glad that it is only 8 weeks! :) Look at it as a break from routine, as you are obviously doing. :) You're gonna have a blast, it's gonna be epic! I can't wait to hear all about it and my only regret is that I'm not going with you. I miss you so much. Have a blast!
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