Last Friday we went to visit our son, Joseph. That, in
itself, is a strange thing to say.
Joseph is currently living at a youth ranch for boys, a few hours from home. He was there on a trial basis, but the decision has now been made for him to begin school (homeschool) and, barring any major issues, to stay through the school year.
Considering the difficulties we’ve faced and the long and
careful process of deciding to seek out this kind of option for Joseph, and
then finally finding something that would work (that we could afford!), and
hoping once he was there that it really would work, that he would be happy and
want to be there and they would want to work with him…with all of that actually
coming together, and knowing my son is in the best place for him right now, it
seems like I should be on cloud nine!
But instead I find myself just feeling strange.
On the one hand, what an absolute tragedy, that a child
would be so broken that the best situation for him to grow and change and learn
is not with his family. How awful
that a twelve year old child feels more safe and content with his family at a
distance.
I’ve been working through all of this long enough now that I
don’t worry we could have done something different or better. Certainly we could have done it better -- parenting,
attachment therapy, life in general, (we are far from perfect!) -- but it would
not have changed the necessity of our current situation. Any doubts I once had about
that were wrestled away in the many months it took to come to the decision to even
consider residential treatment for Joseph. Through conversations with my
husband, our family therapist, close friends, trusted advisors, and God, I
worked through my doubts, fears, and the most difficult of all, my pride, and
finally came to the realization that the best thing for our child was not
something that we could offer him in our home.
I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt, and being with
Joseph on Friday just confirmed it once again. But it makes me angry. And it
makes me sad.
But then there’s the other side of all of this. Without the
anxiety of a child who rejects love, fights family, and lives in a state of
constant misery in our home, our home is finally, for the first time in over
two years, a nice place to be.
Michael, our younger son, is much more calm, and is
beginning to come into his own.
Our home is peaceful.
I’m finding myself able to function again, able to do normal
life things. I’m less stressed, less drained. I have so much more emotional
energy.
And Joseph, he’s doing great! He’s more content than I’ve
ever seen him. He wants to stay where he is, and yet genuinely enjoys seeing us
and being with us.
Everything is so good right now. For so long we were just
surviving. Now everyone is where they need to be to thrive.
I am grateful, so very thankful.
But it still feels strange.