Are You Just Flipping Out?

It is odd sometimes. I am living what some of my Catholic-mom-friend peers might consider their worst fears. They treasure their marriages and the spiritual lives of their children and devote themselves tirelessly to the well-being of both. To have their husbands die and their children leave the Church would be seemingly be certain heartbreak for them.

My sons (both in thier 20\’s) left the Church first. One became an Atheist while he was off at a state University. During one of the many parent-sending-kid-off-to-college conversations I shared with a peer, my friend asked what school he would go to and I said “Sodom and Gomorra U” reflecting on the party reputation of where he was headed. That friend obviously didn’t get my joke since the response was, “I heard that is a good school.”

“Aha!” someone might say reflecting on the wisdom to send a child to a conservative Catholic school, \”that same fate won’t befall those who take the time and effort and exert proper control to send their kids to a school where faith is central.\” Nice thought, except it is no guarantee. My older son went to one of the most respected, faithfully Catholic universities in the galaxy and returned home after three years with no diploma and a disdain for all things Catholic. He did bring home a really cute kid. The presence of this lovely child in my life transcends money, but I still joke that he cost me $75,000 (tuition, room, books, food…).

Then in the midst of navigating these choppy waters of parenting our struggling fledgling-adults, my husband died suddenly bringing to an end my precious Catholic marriage and thrusting me into the single parent world I had fought so hard to stay out of. I say “precious” not because it was perfect or easy, maybe more so because it was hard. If it weren’t a Catholic marriage, it wouldn’t have been a marriage at all, it would have been a statistic.

One of my first thoughts in the wake of his death was that I didn’t want my grief journey to be occasion for anyone else to stumble. People knew of my professed faith and I was going to do my best to live it. I later realized that I think the same thing about my sons\’ wanderings. I won’t live in despair and hopelessness even if the momentary circumstances might justify doing so.

When I run into a peer, our interactions sound something like this, “So what is your younger son doing?”

“He changed his name to ‘Fig’ and is living in a Sufi Commune in NY. He was in a Feminist Anarchist Commune but it burned down.”

“Sufi? What is that?”

“It’s a sect of Islamic Mysticism, (cue friend to squinch their face and recoil) you can read about it on Wikipedia.”

“Are you just flipping out?”

“No, it is part of his journey and it is his journey and God is still God and He hasn’t forgotten my son. It is going to be okay. My job is to pray for him every day.”

Full disclosure, my youngest child still attends Mass with me. The parenting challenges she has given me lately involve unexplained illness that paralyzed half of her face. It was supposed to resolve completely but hasn’t. A recent MRI of her head may or may not give us clues about what is going on. My recent parenting challenge with her was the severe injury of one of her BFF\’s in a car wreck. Her friend’s injuries were life threatening and I had no idea how I would parent her should her friend die so soon after losing her dad. I joined those who begged God to heal her friend, and He did.

I was speaking to a newly bereaved mom the other day and I told her something I have observed in the women of our culture. Women spend their 20\’s gearing up to get control of their lives and circumstances. They spend their 30\’s trying to maintain a white-knuckle grip on their lives and circumstances. But those of us in our late 40\’s have figured out that no matter how hard we try, we will never gain control over our lives and circumstances.

This path I tread that others dread? I’ve made peace with it for now. Life prepared me for this and I am trudging along; maybe I can show others that they don’t need to be afraid. I find solace in knowing that I was a really good wife. I wasn’t perfect and I certainly blundered at various times, but I can’t think of a single mean thing I ever said to him that I would “take back” if given the chance.

With my sons I know I gave them both a good foundation of faith and love, even though they seem to be running from it. You can set healthy boundaries of what types of behaviors you will allow in your home but I am convinced you cannot force belief. Conversion of the heart is a work of the Holy Spirit and if I try to force belief in my kids I an sure I would slow down their process.

Yesterday I got an email from \’Fig;\’ he excitedly told me about yoga, zikrs, universal dance worship music and coffee. He was happy and expressed his love for us. I’m happy to be his mom and I\’m even happier about when I think that there are folks who might not accept him for being who he is right now. He knows that my deepest hope is for him to return to Catholicism. I am encouraged by stories of reverts and I hope to someday hear one of those from him, but for today I trust that God has my whole family in the palm of His hand and I will do my part as leader to pray that we all stay there.