God Has No Grandchildren

Some days are harder than others. 

Today was a tough one, but we rode it out, Eli and I.  It’s becoming easier for me to see his perspective on his more difficult days, with gives me more empathy for him, but it’s also pretty painful to watch.  Many days, things that would not even register an emotional reaction in other people are devastating to him.  This morning, I spent 15 minutes patiently working with a sour and snarky Eli to get his things together and get in the car, where the rest of the family was already waiting; when later I mentioned mildly that he had made us late, his face contorted in pain, and he whispered fiercely, “Why would you even say that?”  We were walking in public and he dropped his bag – his face flushed with embarrassment and frustration as he muttered under his breath and yanked the bag along.  He turned on an online game tonight and saw that he two of his friends had been on earlier, he had missed them.  When he showed me the screen, I turned to look at his face, and it was the picture of distress - every muscle tense, eyebrows fiercely furrowed.

As much energy and patience as it takes to parent him, I know that it is infinitely harder to be him.  On days like today, he’s in a near-constant state of agitation.  It reminds me of when he was an infant, and he would cry for hours, days, inconsolable.  Back then, a brand new mom, I thought it was my problem to solve, which consumed me with worry and self-doubt, sometimes even panic.  But now, I know that he has his own path to walk.  I have confidence and faith in his ability to figure himself out, even if it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder for him than it is for other people.  I’m here when he needs me (which is quite a bit at the moment), but I know that ultimately, I’m just a supporting character in his story.  My job right now is to infuse as much love and light into this chapter as I can. 

One time a friend told me that “God has no grandchildren.”  Eli was little at the time, 4 or 5, and this statement stopped me in my tracks. And then, gave me such peace.  I’m not the key to his success.  I’m not the one who has to find the right path for him.  I’m not the intermediary between my child and this great universe.  This beautiful, creative, tortured soul – he has a direct connection to the source of light and life.  He is as great and as insignificant as any other human in the scope of time and space.  And me?  I’m just here to hold his hand.