“Who are *that* kid’s parents?!” Me. I am.

Social media has this made up thing called, “National Daughter’s Day” and “National Son’s Day”. (Remember parents, when our Littles would complain about not having a “Children’s Day” when it was Mother’s Day or Father’s Day? Welp, sigh… Here we are…) Besides its exclusive binary, it seems to suggest that other days are not these days, when in reality they are. Every day. Every day is our child’s day, and every child’s day, even if they aren’t our own. And each of these days can be filled with joy and heartache. Over our own children, or children in general, in our lives, and around the world.

Any day that celebrates something or someone, can’t really hold the nuances of life’s complexities over the human experience, especially when it comes to loss and grief of all kinds. Today is apparently “National Son’s Day.” (Or maybe it’s tomorrow, or yesterday. I also heard it might be twice a year. Good grief…) So here is my response:

When you don’t have a very recent picture of your son, and, when it helps to spend moments in nostalgia while your young adult son is currently going through “a terrible” (and so are the ones close to him), you find a picture like this, look into his eyes, feel your heart break open again, and hold on to hope. You might also remember how much he loved polar bears, had his own stuffed polar bear named, “Mr. White” since he was a baby, and that that very same bear, worn and scruffy, sits on the dash of his truck. And you have sat in his empty truck, and stared at that stuffed bear, while thinking of him, and sometimes crying and praying, lamenting and wailing…

We are all Beloved, always. Each and every one of us. And the Wisdom in our Child Selves remains in our current inner child, always within grasp. And Nathan, my son, child of God, will always be mine, with a mama who has been, and will always be, his champion. I always tell him I believe in him, and that nothing he could do will ever change my love for him. It might change things, and alter his path, our paths, others’ paths, but the love is always there.

A mother’s heart learns to contain such a deeper, complex love, even with myriad emotions, harm, layered, compounded grief, both/ands, isolating realities, unimaginable pain, and more. But I hope other moms don’t ever have to bear such complex, unique, “not normals”, and terrible pain over their own child’s life. I hope other moms only deal with “normal” bumps in their child’s journey. I have found other moms in the shadows, going through similar circumstances with their sons. It’s a club we didn’t want to join. But it is good to know we are not alone, as much as I want to go through it alone.

Parents: Treasure the healthy paths your children are on. Relish in status updates that are shareable on social media. (And I love reading them! And I share mine, too!) And have grace for yourselves if your children are struggling. Hold grace for other parents whose children are not on healthy paths. Have you ever asked the question, “Who are that kids’ parents?!” The answer? Me. I am. We are. Have you ever asked, “Where are those kid’s parents?” The answer: Right here. Exhausted. Advocating. Loving. Supporting. Grieving. Trying all.of.the.everythings. And crying ourselves to sleep. And do you know who that kid is? Or that person? Human. Beloved. Even when it is hard for us to love them.

Some parents are terrible, abusive, neglectful, toxic, and blameworthy, no doubt. And those behaviors cause real harm. Some parents are doing the best they can. Some, imperfect as we are, are healthy, loving parents with children on paths we could have never imagined. Parenting is a crapshoot. That is not a negative statement. It is exactly what it means: Uncertain. Risky. It is what it is. Yet, there is always hope, grace, and transformation. Planted seeds waiting to bloom. The resilient human experience. The reality of how we are all growing, changing, learning, all of the time…(Hopefully. There are no guarantees.) There is the reality that we are all our own people, and we are not that powerful over others, even our own children. While we should have pride in our children and celebrate them, their failures…and successes, are not ours. And there is always only one degree of separation- just one, seriously- between ourselves and others, and the circumstances “we would never” find ourselves in, or “our children, my child, would never” be in…

And if you don’t believe that, just wait…

…or reflect deeper within. May it cultivate empathy. Not one that excuses, but an empathy that fosters compassion.

In all of it, and Ultimately…there is a Mysterious Love Who knows us to our bones, knows the depths of our souls, and keeps dreaming, holding, and remaining…just like good mamas do…

National Son’s Day. 💔❤️