Blended in with the disruption of COVID-19, I missed my son intensely. He moved to his mom’s house after living with me for two years when the shelter-in-place recommendations hit in mid-March. So, we avoided getting together for several weeks for each other’s health. We’d always connected through movie watching. We couldn’t do that either. The loss of his physical presence impacted me far more than I could’ve imagined.
I hurt. I texted him more, which I never had to do since we saw each other everyday. I sat in his old room and prayed for him.
Several weeks later, he was diagnosed with Tourrette’s Syndrome. It stung that I couldn’t be with him to process together and support him in person. I did all I could through the phone. We connected in person a few times. The circumstances made those minutes entirely more valuable.
On his birthday in late April, we went to a park near his mom’s house. It was the first time I witnessed his ticks. He’d told me about them and how he was dealing with it.
He seemed to be doing well, despite the circumstances. I’m sure it helped that he didn’t have to drive and attend classes because schools switched to remote learning. On the other hand, instructors assigned more work to make up for lost class time. So that added more stress.
Anyway, on his birthday at the park he saw some bees. His hands rose beside his head, in excitement He shouted, “Beeees! Beeees! Buzzing! Beeees! Oh beautiful bees! Come to my birthday bees. Beeees! Beeees! Buzzing bees!”
He briefly lost control of himself. It drained him. He wasn’t suffering though. He seemed fine. Just more tired than a few moments earlier.
I told him, “They’re coming to your party. You invited them. They like you.” He laughed. The lighter moment released the pressure of the heaviness I felt. Later without thinking, I said something about bees and he had another, less intense reaction. Less drained. Less heaviness.
We sat in the grass talking for a while then played frisbee for about an hour. My heart was full. But it got even better when he said, “this was the best day ever” on our walk back. My heart swelled with satisfaction and I said, “Yeah.” My eyes teared up. I held back thinking it would protect him. I’d taught him to welcome and express his emotions. I couldn’t at that moment.
After leaving, I broke into tears in the car on the way home. I was hurting for my son’s new challenges with Tourrette’s. I missed seeing him, and going to movies together. And I was thrilled to connect with him. I was so proud to see him managing his tiks. Plus, tossing the frisbee back and forth took on a grander importance.
We made up for all the lost time. Neither of us liked to talk on the phone, and he texted sporadically. So, those hours we spent together multiplied the time.
I wrote a poem for his birthday. It was born from imagining the emotions that were quaking through his body. No imagination necessary on my side. My body was quaking with all the emotions, also. I recorded and shared it on Facebook. It drew a lot of attention, but my son called to let me know that he wasn’t telling everyone yet. I apologized and deleted the video. Someone saw the post, and called his mom to express support.
Since he was a child, I endeavored to express and name my emotions with him. I tried to give him words for his emotions. We had emotional talks and cried together. I wrote letters at different landmarks in his life. So, this has been part of my routine with him for 20 years. But again, this moment felt so much bigger and deeper. So, the emotions high and low pounded on my chest and kicked my gut.
Even though the news got out early, my son hoped it might help someone. That was a great hope but also a dodge of feeling his own needs. I realized that’s why I wrote the poem.
Go beyond the emotions
With thoughts of you a flood comes rushing, son
My heart cannot contain the whirl of emotions
Joy
Awe
Love
Fear
Peace
Anxiety
Confusion
Happiness
Anticipation
Contentment
They crash together, flow out
Tears are not only sadness
Smiles not only happiness
Tears may mean I miss you
Streaming from an inner ache
I may miss you the minute we part
Or after a month since our last embrace
Smiles may mean I’m proud of you
Beaming from a source deep inside
I may remember something you said or did
Or remember who you are beyond words and deeds
I may smile and cry and ache and beam
Melodic memories
Biting anxieties
Jumping for joy
Trembling in fear and anxiety
Standing in awe
No need to contain or suppress any of it
It’s all part of life
But only part
Life is much more
There’s more beyond the emotion
More beyond the memories and anxieties
Beyond the happiness and contentment
And fear and joy and confusion
The wind and the ocean know
Where the breeze and waves begin
A mysterious ebb and flow
Science may explain but can’t say why
There’s a love deeper than emotions and answers
A love that knows you
That created you
That moves you, guides you
That smiles and cries for you
Pursue that Love
the source of life
