Angry-Texting and Letting Go

Grant, front-center at Band Practice, with his Tenor Saxophone, his constant companion these last 5 years

Dylan:     Are you angry-texting?
Me:          Yes, I am!
Dylan:     Is Grant in trouble?
Me:          YES HE IS!  and I hope that this teaches YOU that if you ever, EVER get a cell-phone,
                you better answer my MESSAGES RIGHT AWAY!!!!

This was part of a dialogue between Dylan and I yesterday at Kennywood when trying to keep out of the pouring rain while waiting by the exit to make sure all the band kids had gotten the message that the park was closing, the parade was cancelled and we were leaving at 4:30 p.m. instead of 10:00 p.m.

Of course, all of the other chaperones were confident that the students had by now all heard and were aware of the changes.  All, except me...because the one kid I hadn't heard from was mine.  I had been trying to reach him for 1 hour now with no response and it was driving me INSANE!!!

After standing in the rain long enough, I decided to head out to the bus with Dylan and wait there.  I sat down and fumed as I saw kid after kid come in with no sign of Grant.  Finally, I saw the group I had last seen Grant hanging out with come on the bus, so I asked the most reliable one about him and she said he was with this other kid.  Apparently, Grant parted ways with them at some point.  GREAT! At 4:30 on the dot, in comes the last group of band members, all drenched and clueless, and there's Grant, the last one ... blissfully ignorant of his surroundings, when he lands his eyes on me, he knew something was wrong.  I just lifted my phone to my face and gave him my angry-mama look...yep, he knew, alright!

I saw Dylan with the corner of my eyes sneaking in a smile ... you know ... that "involuntarily premeditated" smile siblings get when they know the other one is about to get it...sigh...

Shortly after Grant texted me a lame excuse about his phone being in someone else's bag and him not seeing the messages, blah, blah, blah...I decided not to reply.  Enough angry-texting.  So I just went on text-silence for the duration of the trip home.

When we came in the house, Dan was already there back from work and he asked about the day and how did we deal with the cancellation of the parade and so on...to which I just say..."well, ask Grant..." to which Grant proceeded to tell the story about what happened with the phone being in his friend's bag since lunch time, etc. etc. etc. Then, as usual, Dan delivered his customary fatal blow commentary when he said, looking at me straight in the eyes:  "Well, how many seconds or minutes or hours of any day do you think you're going to know where he is at or what he is doing around this time a year from now?"

"D'oh!!!"

Yep, leave it to Dan to be swift at ending a "discussion."

That was the moment I decided I had just chaperoned my last band trip for Grant.

Five years ago, Grant joined the marching band and I was exhilarated and terrified at the same time.  I was very happy he had finally found a place to land.  I was very scared he would join in with the wrong crowd within that group, that he'd get hurt, that he'd be misled to the wrong path, that he'd get lost...therefore, I made it a mission to be present as much as possible, especially at the away events and trips.  I got all my clearances and I became a chaperone.  I put up with the discomfort of traveling to Disney on a bus for 20 PLUS hours one-way.  I survived hauling 100 kids through Time Square and other streets in New York City at Night.  I endured country music extravaganza, in Tennessee and numerous other exhausting experiences because I wanted to be there and I wanted to see that he was OK.  I felt that if I was there, he'd be safe.  And, of course, I knew that if I was there, I would be less of a wreck because I would not have to be wondering whether he was well or not.

I can't do this anymore.  I have to let go.

Grant is going to begin his senior year exactly one week from today.  I'm going to blink and we will be attending his graduation and then his childhood will be over.  There would be no more little Grant to guide by the hand.  He will be on his own.  My job is shifting from protector of a boy to prayer warrior for a young man.  It is my responsibility to make sure he feels confident to transition from holding my hand to grabbing hold of the Only Hand that can truly lead him to the green pastures: the hand of the Good Shepherd...the One Who is The Way.

After we were done discussing the topic, and my tempered had cooled off, I gave Grant a big hug and we started going over the fun stuff we did have a chance to do at Kennywood.  It was a fun day after all.  And we decided not to cut it short and just go catch a late showing of a movie we've been trying to go watch since Friday.  We came home exhausted, but happy.  And as for me, I am praying the Lord helps me enjoy as many of these precious moments with my boys while I still have them at home, as I learn to let them go (and I learn to do less angry-texting), entrusting them to the One who makes their paths straight and loves them more than I do.