AuburnChick's Adventures

Today, after completing a virtual run (more about that in a later post), I arrived home to find something special in the mail…

My heart beat a little faster when I saw THREE letters from Rooster.

Three!!!!

This is the first “real” written communication, other than the postcard that arrived last week, that I’d received since he left two weeks ago.

The Mr. was out shopping, and I texted him the news.  I knew I had to wait until he got home to open the envelopes.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long.

I sat down at the dining room table while the Mr. stood.

Anxious much?

We opened the envelopes and determined the order in which we should read the letters.  Rooster had dated each one.  Thank goodness!

And thus began the best read aloud ever.

The first letter started off with, “I’m doing well.”

Yes, we needed to hear these sentiments.  It was a good way to begin.

He said that he liked his MTIs (military training instructors), and that he’d been sick the first day he was there.  Oh, that was hard to read.  Who likes their babies being sick when we can’t tend to them?

The letter was brief.  We didn’t care.

On to letter #2.  It was even shorter and told us to ask for details from his girl, to whom he’d written much more.  Ahem.  At least he wrote!!

Letter #3 got us in our “feels.”  It was the longest of the three.

He told us that he missed us a lot.

I’m crying even as I write this now, just as I did when I read those words the first time.

He told us about specific things he missed.

The waterworks were on full-blast at this point.  The moments he shared were exactly what we’d been missing too.

He explained why he hadn’t been able to call and when he expected to be able to phone us next.  It won’t be soon enough, let me tell you.

The most precious words he shared were “Love you guys!”

Y’all, I read aloud for a living.  It’s what I do as a reading teacher.

Today, reading my sweet boy’s personally handwritten letters put my fluency skills to the test.

The emotions were raw.

I will tell you one thing that is good about not being able to communicate via the phone.

Writing letters back and forth is forcing us to talk the old-school way.  It’s a lost art form, precious but rare.

The Mr. and I have written our Rooster letters (we each write our own) every single day, starting with the night before he left (we snuck those into his travel bag, which he found his first night).

It’s probably no surprise to you that I find the process cathartic.  I NEED to write to process my feelings.

I look at each letter as a continuous conversation with the son who would sit and chat with me for hours about random stuff.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I will be the happiest mama on earth when he gets his phone back after basic training is over; however, I’m choosing to look for silver linings in my current circumstances…to find joy in the smallest of things.

Seeing my boy’s handwriting, taking note of his excellent grammar (I did something right as a mother and English specialist), and holding pieces of paper that he held three or four days prior lifts my spirits and helps ease the anxiety of not being able to hear his voice whenever I want.

I pray that these special read alouds are repeated…often…hanky in hand…heartstrings pulled taut.  These will be treasured moments, tucked into my heart to be pulled out time and again as I remind myself just how blessed I am.

Filed under: children | Tagged: childrearing, children, parenting | 1 Comment »

Chicky is not very demonstrative with her love.

I have often doubted that she cares for me because we have spent so many years at each others’ throats.

Such is the life between a mother and daughter, it would seem.

However, things have begun to change, I believe, and I’ve begun to recognize the ways in which she shows me that she does, in fact, love me.

1. All summer, Chicky has been quite mindful of my eating habits and has strongly encouraged me to eat regular meals.  I tend to skip out on eating.  Aside from certain dishes, I really don’t enjoy this task.  I’m usually too busy to eat, and I find it easy to ignore my stomach.  Even though she comes across as angry, I know that Chicky is simply frustrated because she wants me to take better care of myself.  She often took extra time to plan meals that included items I could eat, and her grocery shopping included the ingredients necessary for these meals.

1. Chicky bragged to Special K, her roomie, about the vegan desserts I had made all summer.  I’ve rarely heard her brag about the stuff I’ve done.  This warmed my heart more than she or anyone can ever know.  To feel like my child approves of me when for so long I’ve felt as though I have not measured up has gone a long way toward healing that hurt in my heart.

1. The evening we moved Chicky into her new digs (Wednesday night), I set off, very late (she would not let us eat dinner before she had unpacked) to pick up dinner at Chipotle’s.  They closed at ten.  It was 9:30 when I left.  I got lost while chatting on the phone with my friend, Barb, and couldn’t find my way out of a neighborhood.  I hung up, got the GPS going, and got there with ten minutes to spare.  After that, I decided to treat myself to Starbucks…especially after the crazy day I’d had.  Chicky called as I was nearing her place on my return drive.
   Our conversation went like this…”Mama, are you okay?” she asked.”I’m fine,” I said.

   “Did you get there before they closed?” she continued.

   “Oh, so you’re only worried about your food.  I see how it is,” I replied.

   “No, actually, I wanted to make sure you were still alive.  You’ve been gone a long time,” she quipped.

   I think she really was worried.  We’d had a scare with the moving truck earlier that day (I will blog about this tomorrow, I promise).

1. Later that night, she asked me where I was going to sleep.  I told her, “Right on that Woody (Toy Story) pillow you have on your bed.”  I expected her to tell me I could take my pillow to the couch, but she surprised me by telling me that I could sleep in her bed, albeit using the Spider Man pillow, only if I didn’t cross my side and absolutely did not touch her.  I chuckled as I told her that I would wait until she was sound asleep to snuggle.  Unfortunately, I was so beat that I was probably snoozing long before she succumbed to dreams of three-a-days (for you non-sporties, that’s three practices a day).

I have learned to treasure such moments instead of overlooking them.

Chicky doesn’t say the three words I desperately long to hear and have not heard her speak in a number of years.

She does, however, show through her actions what she cannot say.

Actions speak louder than words.

That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?

While it is wonderful to hear the words, I take such times as those described above, tuck them away for safekeeping, and pull them out when I begin to doubt…or when we are in the middle of three u-turns in a row and she’s yelling at me to listen to her and turn on the stupid GPS.

My Chicky loves me.

And I love her.

Filed under: children | Tagged: childrearing, children, parenting | 2 Comments »