What would I like to tell you about my son?

What would I like to tell you about my son? He has struggled, he’s brilliant, he’s been hospitalized for a suicide attempt and afterward, in his recovery, tried stand-up comedy. He’s always tried to be his own advocate, but socially he’s his own worst enemy - demanding too much of the people around him and overwhelming them with his need. He’s a loving big brother to his youngest siblings, taking walks with them in the park and organizing themed movie nights. With others of his siblings, he can be rigid and dismissive. He’s charming and difficult; he can be mean and he can also be thoughtlessly generous, kind, and accepting. He’s a complicated, challenging, beautiful human being. He’s my son. 

So, what has happened? Where has he gone? How do I find him? His junior year in college he was replaced by a woman that I don’t care for. Her name is bitter on my tongue, and I’ve only said it once out loud with him. She is self-righteous, highly scripted and takes everything very personally. She demands compliance as the only proof of actual love. She tells me that she thought she knew me but doesn’t. I agree; I don’t feel that I know her either. She says that I’m much worse than she knew-more hateful, close-minded, and cruel. She picked a fight and left for her own safety and didn’t speak to me for almost a year. She didn’t come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas and she almost didn’t invite me to his college graduation. If it were only her, I could let her leave. I would be relieved that she’s gone. But my son is with her- and him I miss and long to look at and talk to. Complicated him. Brilliant him. Difficult him. Him.

Just very recently he has begun speaking to me again. It is a bit of a minefield but a huge relief to hear his voice again (his voice comes back naturally when he relaxes) I’m careful with him as I try to act natural. I was- by a sort of miracle- invited to graduation, and he spent a few days with us before moving to the West Coast. It was wonderful. She receded for a time- still there but not dominating the conversation. There was a movie night. And over and over and over in my head was the scripture “your child is not dead but sleeping.” And it comforted me. I keep an invisible bedside vigil for him and I talk to him in my heart and to God about him, and I brush his hair off his forehead while he sleeps. I pray he wakes up. I pray the spell will be broken and that he will look at me clear eyed and at peace. I pray she will leave us- leave him- so that he can work through what pains him and find his way in his life as the man God created him to be.