I am the Lion, my son is the Wizard

My son left for college seven weeks ago. His transition and mine, although decidedly separate, occurred in tangent. Each were equally difficult both to live through and to witness. We were  uncomfortable and heroic but for entirely different reasons. In short, I have missed him incredibly. I believe he has missed me too.

His moving away is very much a double-edged sword. He needs to go to college. I understand that and so does he or at least he will one day. He needs to grow personally and socially. I know all this is right and true, but knowing has not made it any easier.
I miss him terribly and he misses having me around to lean on. I know that life for him is and will continue to be difficult without me in his circle all the time.
He is struggling. I know it. I can see it in his withdrawal. I can hear it in his lazy, disconnected tone. He is jumping through academic hoops and entirely miserable some nights. He says he feels 'lonely', 'lost' and 'out of control.' There are no words more difficult to hear as a parent.
The strange part is that he is doing well in school. Academically he is doing okay and even improving since the beginning of the year. He has found a job working for a person he respects. Personally and socially, he is floundering. From what I have seen, it is not for lack of trying. What I have seen of him as he tries with all his stamina and effort to 'fit in' .... is the my son has somehow turned into the bravest person I know.

Oddly enough, despite that he says he is lonely, no matter that he claims he has no friends. regardless that, to me, he appears to be miserable more often than not, he is flourishing in his own way. My son always has gone about tasks in his own way and by his own method. I should not really be surprised by this. But I am. I am surprised and thrilled that he has endeavored on a plan that I did not and could not conceive - yet it's perfect for him. I know that now. At first, I thought I needed to put one together for him - one that made sense to me. Finally and after many anxious nights and days, I gave up attempting to force him to engage on my terms. I had forgotten what I already knew and learned.

At this age, being on the edge of adulthood, my role in his life has transformed. I am no longer a director and or an enforcer. I am an influencer. What that means is that I no longer get to decide anything for him. I no longer get to declare directives. All I can do is voice my concerns, relay my experience(s) and hope, know and pray that he makes a good decision - whatever that ends up looking like.

On my last visit to campus he was up before I was, had made himself breakfast and set the dishes in the sink. After breakfast he seemed almost chatty. He told me about all the activities he had attended during the week and that he has been trying to get more exercise and eat more to keep his energy and strength up.

My son is taking control of his life. He is assuming responsibility for his life, his needs and his self.

I did not recognize the young man I visited. This man goes out - all the time - even when he doesn't know anyone - even when the function is in a big, loud place, or a complicated social environment. He attends basketball games!! Baseball games, movies, barbecues, student gatherings where ever and when ever. The young man I encountered has taken up exercise so that he can spend time in the gym  - "to be around people." He commits to two-hour bus rides to sporting events in neighboring towns just "to be around other people." He has joined clubs and sought out the campus bible study group. He spends hours at the library - all in an effort to simply increase the chances that he might meet some other students and form a friendship. To date, that hasn't happened and my heart breaks for him. He has tried and continues to try harder to make new friends than I ever would have.
He is so incredibly brave because he is starving for friendship.

Not surprisingly, he lives just short of defeat. I can see that he hurts deeply. I can stare at 'lonely' in his eyes. He is shy and feels alone. I know that if there were a tangible target even if it was one that was in no way responsible for this sad time, he would lash out and try to hurt it back.

I see my son every weekend. I need to see him to make sure he is okay and he needs to see me to be sure that I am still there, that I haven't forgotten about him or moved on to an alternate priority now that he does not occupy most of my time. What he doesn't know is that the simple fact that he is not physically near me does not mean that he I will no longer keep him as a priority needing tremendous amounts of support, love and care. His remoteness means that he is an even larger priority in my life than he was while we shared a home. I have learned to provide all the support that I possibly can in an entirely new way and through wholly different means. There is only so much I can do and a limit to what I can offer. I can do laundry, I can provide moral support. I can make sure he has food he likes and that there is enough there to eat for someone who really doesn't care if he eats or not because loneliness has buried his hunger. There has never been a more critical need for 'comfort food.'

Since he has moved away there are tasks and responsibilities that he must necessarily assume total accountability for. Eating enough and as often as he needed to was a huge challenge the first semester. Keeping track of his belongings has always been a challenge. Now that he is on his own there is nobody close to help him find his Student ID when it goes through the wash or his last five dollar bill abandoned in his sock drawer. People don't understand his habit of hiding things in close, closed places. Why would his car keys be stuffed down between the sofa cushions? I don't know, I simply know that they are and understand that my son likes the way this type of space feels; surrounded, a little tight, but warm and cozy. My son is beginning to understand his own habits.

I don't mean to make it appear that my son is a total bumbling misfit in his new environment. I truly believe that most people when placed in similar situations struggle with all sorts of issues. Some far heavier than those my son faces,
There are reasons I don't easily recognize my son as he once was. He has grown, He has matured. He is becoming the man I knew he would and I could not be more proud.

How exactly, I don't know. He is courageous, He is stronger than he believes. He is learning to be in control of more aspects of his life with every passing day despite that it is difficult and unpredictable. He is truly amazing to me. I watch and am continuously in awe of his perseverance, his unwillingness to quit, his determination to reinvent himself to capture more and more responsibility, his relentless pursuit of the friends that he wants and needs and his simultaneous patience with what is in store for him.

Even though he is in emotional pain and discomfort, I know that he must go through it and come out intact and on the other side to reap the benefits of this life lesson in ways that will require him to grow and mature into the remarkable person he will be.

Nobody else sneaks up on me repeatedly throughout the day to yell-whisper, "Boo!" in my ear from behind. How can you not miss someone who loves to play?!
Nobody else asks if there is anything I need them to do for me - even if it's ten o'clock in the evening.
Nobody else would rather be home with me, even if we are separately busy, than anywhere else.
Nobody else will join me in a room just to share my space with me and smirk at me as I notice his presence the way he does.

I have missed him so much. I have also worried about him handling such a huge change in his environment, fretted for him and his ability to find friends and connections and ached for him when he hasn't,

The first semester is over, He passed all his classes, got himself registered for the next set, ordered his books and began again. He kept his job and continues to try as hard as he can - at everything.

Some might say that he should be trying harder. I would ask them by whose measuring stick should anyone gauge their work if not their own?

I could not be more proud. He is a remarkable young man - capable of so much more than my measuring stick ever accounted for. I am so glad that he chose to throw mine away and use his own.