Everlasting Hopefulness

I guess I was hoping for more from my son, but I guess I hoped for too much as a girl or mom or someone suffering from what I call everlasting hopefulness...Can you really suffer from everlasting hopefulness? My BFF tells me it is one of my gifts, yet when I feel so disappointed that tears come or I have near physical pain from hopes being dashed I call it suffering.

The boy has been at his first Scout Camp since Monday, hiked in the high Uintas and slept outdoors in a shelter he put together himself instead of a proper, zipped up tent, ate fish he caught, was named best hiker out of approximately 20 scouts, and the list of awesomeness continues. Despite all of this, I thought he would be happy to see me, that he might miss me. But no, he acted embarrassed by me or something--I don't know what.


When we pulled up to the parking area for the Family Night, he ran to the car, ran right up to his dad, and then I just don't remember much except for him not wanting to be near me and getting bugged by me being my photograph-taking self. I have missed him so very much. way more than I anticipated because life has just been difficult. He is an older brother tween with ADHD, which equals a garbage load of pestering, time-wasting, demanding, crying and complaining occurring on a regular basis. All of that said, I have sorely missed his quirky sense of humor, his helpfulness when he is able to focus, the sensitivity and compassion he shows his family (under normal circumstances), and just him.  My boy is a sweet soul to be in company with.

I hoped so much that he might say or at least show me that he missed me. I heard that one boy was so homesick that he went home the second day and some boys were having some hard times with other stuff. Since my son wasn't doing those things, I felt grateful to have turned out a boy who could handle himself in the outdoors and enjoy time away. That said, I did still believe and hope he would want to see me again and miss me and want to tell me about his adventures himself. Am I nuts or what? Should I hang those notions up until my son is thirty? My mom died before I turned thirty, so I don't feel comfortable with the idea, but moms do not get to choose everything. not even very much.
They get to choose Jif and boxed cereals.
Choosy moms choose Jif. Kid-tested, Mother-approved?
whatever.

I am not a boy, nor do I want to be one, so I am unsure what is going on inside. It hurts to think that he does not like who I am and is ashamed or he fosters anything contrary to love and respect for me. How can a broken heart be broken again? Send your boy off to Scout Camp. Talk about a rude awakening.

The only positive thing I can think to do is to tell myself that the boy is normal and what just happened might be par for the course in the game of life, he still loves me, but doesn't know how to show it because of his age and our family circumstances are weighing on his tender heart.
And someday, he will learn to care enough to show me no matter what circumstances are in the way.

Until then, I pray to my Father in Heaven for strength and keep on hoping.

photograph by C.N.

 Be still, my crushed heart.