Apologies for the blogging silence for the past couple of weeks. I’ve been trying out a new style of vacation – one focused primarily on visiting children.
It’s not that I haven’t been doing the things I’d generally do on a vacation – I have. The difference is that the primary focus has been on spending time with my son, and finding ways to do things with him.
He’s been working in Vietnam for the past several months. While he likes traveling, enjoys the work he’s doing, and loves having new adventures, he’s still a guy who’s firmly anchored to his home.Vietnam is a long way from home.
While we get to talk on Skype most mornings for a good long bit, (isn’t technology wonderful?!), he’s still struggled with being away from home for such a long time. I’ve felt the homesickness from him often when we’ve talked.
It’s one of the hardest parts of being a parent – seeing your children struggle in some way, or hearing pain in their voice. My instinct is always to fix something, to make something go away, to vanquish a monster someplace. When they’re young, you can generally find a way to do that.
But as they get older, and move on to a life of their own, there’s less and less you can do. And frankly, less and less you should do. If we’ve done our job as a parent well, then we’ve prepared them to fix things themselves, and to vanquish most of the monsters on their own.
I’m a spectator now, not a player on the field of battle. I’ve had to learn hard lessons over the years about listening carefully when my kids tell me about their battles, and to understand they aren’t asking for my sword – they’re asking for my ear. They want to know my sword is there if they need it, and that my counsel is there if they ask for it, but mostly they just want me to listen.
It’s hard sometimes to just listen, to not step in with a sword or an axe or a shovel. I think I’ve gotten better at it over the years as they’ve taught me. Now I’m learning to keep my counsel to myself more often as well, to watch carefully for the signs that they might actually want to hear my advice. The more I keep my mouth shut and my ears open, the more they come to trust that they can ask me for advice when they want it.
I’m not good at it yet, but I’m learning.
This trip has been about being there at the hotel when he comes home from work at the end of the day, and asking how things went. It’s been about listening to his stories of the dragons that he battles every day, and being proud and amazed at how well he wages those battles. It’s been about enjoying his expertise of this new world he lives in – the best places to find amazing food, the best places to get a foot massage, and how to get around in a world where you don’t speak their language.
Sure we’ve done some fun and amazing things together. We spent the Tet holiday at the ancient Angkor ruins in Cambodia, and spent time on a cruise boat in one of the most amazing bays on earth. But mostly, we’ve shared a glass together at the end of the day, and laughed about the quirky sense of humor we share. We’ve wandered slowly through fish markets and night markets, enjoying the wonder of a culture I could only have imagined.
But mostly I’ve listened. And I’ve enjoyed his company more than he can know, and more than I would have imagined. As I type this, it’s just beginning to get light outside my hotel room window. It’s the start of our last day together before my 34 hour trek back to Colorado. I’m sure we’ll spend more time in markets today, and probably a good bit of time just hanging out together. Then we’ll hug each other and say goodbye.
And I’ll do the hardest thing a parent can do – go sit in the spectator section.
I’m not good at it yet, but I’m learning…
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