Youngest Son had a birthday this week. He turned 22 on Cinco de Mayo. What a ride these years with him have been. And I am eternally grateful for God’s incredible grace in our lives as a family, and in his life in particular.
This Momma’s heart has had its pensive moments in these last few days — we’ve been dealing with an especially vicious bug. Youngest Daughter has been sporting a fever of over 103 the last two mornings. I took her to Dr. Lehman’s office yesterday, and they tested for strep and said she didn’t have it. They started her on a five day antibiotic. “Somethings wrong,” they said, comfortingly. “She will be better soon. Probably won’t even have fever by morning.” She really isn’t too much improved yet today, but it has only been 24 hours since she started the medicine. She had hoped for a full recovery by this morning and when the thermometer read 103.2, the tears were insistent in their attack. This girlie feels everything entirely too intensely. I guess it is part of being 17.
Blind Linda’s cough was turning into a bark by yesterday morning, so I trucked her in to Dr. Wilson’s yesterday afternoon, and after checking her over, and diagnosing her with acute sinusitis, he trucked his little wheeley chair over and listened to my lungs and checked out my ears and throat and nose. The result: A prescription for both Certain Man and me to try to stamp out this thing that has been hanging around over a week. The cough is the worst of all. I get a tickle that just won’t stop, and it feels like I’m going to throw up before I finally get it stopped.
It occurs to me that we are on our final approach to life as we have known it for the nine years since Eldest Daughter got married. I am happy for our sons, and I am looking forward to having two sweet daughters in love. I am amazed, though, at how quickly these years have suddenly come to an end. I am not resentful of the new homes being established, and I have every confidence that these are homes where Jesus will be honored, and that is a good thing in this old sin-crazed world.
But it is both of my sons. Leaving in the space of eight weeks. They are so optimistic, so happy, so eager to get on with their lives, and I look at their eyes and see their Daddy’s eyes and remember a young husband who was full of dreams and plans and who worked so hard to bring those dreams to pass. He has exceeded my wildest expectations. I’m so thankful for Certain Man and the way he has sacrificed for our lives together as a family. I pray these sons of ours have learned their lessons well. They won’t go wrong if they follow his example. How very much I pray that they will be husbands who lead their families with a sacrificial love. I pray that they will be the kinds of leaders who will inspire confidence and respect in their wives and families, and that they will never forget the important things about being a family. That they will work hard, laugh much, love intensely.
And it occurs to me that if they don’t know it by now, a crash course won’t do much good. Some things just aren’t gotten by emergency education. So, as I make my way through these last few weeks, planting flowers, making pie crusts, doing normal household things, I keep remembering that my best hope is what has already been taught, and my lifeline to my Heavenly Father who holds the Master Plan for families, and, in fact, already has one in place for them. I can trust Him for that — He is still the best teacher. And I need to let go of these young men. They will make mistakes. They already have, and they will make some more. But their hearts are to do this right, and with that, my heart can be at peace.