When LM was a toddler, my dad came to visit bringing a 5-disc cd player for us to use. Before we could even get it hooked up, LM took hold of the audio cables and walked around the house with them, talking on one end as if it was a phone and sometimes using the other end as a writing implement. Some of his favorite toys at that age were unused telephones. His love for electronic gadgets only got worse as he grew older. I have mentioned his loft, full of keyboards and miscellaneous computer cables and cords. I mentioned long ago about his fascination with an old word processor. If you knew his father, you’d understand where these genes originated. There is no doubt that this computer-geeky child is his father’s son.

Despite the stretch marks, photographs and painful memories, there was, for a time however, a question of who was his real mother.

Now, when I think about LM and all the things I miss about him, I realize how much we are alike. We’re both rather serious people when you first meet us. We’re social, sure, but we tend to have a more serious look on our face and it takes more to get us to laugh out loud than some lighter folks. We care about things deeply and for that, our feelings are apt to get hurt a hundred times a day. We’re both stubborn and independent. We don’t yell when we are angry but we tend to sulk quietly about transgressions done to us. We share a sarcastic sense of humor and a desire to infiltrate our conversations with big words we’ve read but might mispronounce. A book is a treasure to both of us and spending time curled up under a blanket together sharing a story is a mutually enjoyable evening.

This week has been one of the hardest I’ve endured in years. We are both trying to be strong but while we know we’re making the right decision for Gabe, it hurts more than we know how to bear. Tomorrow was to be our celebration of being back together, Day 54 that we’ve been waiting on all summer. And while it will be that, it is looking as if it will also be the day that we say goodbye to Gabe. I will be picking up LM on my way across Pennsylvania, giving him a few hours to say goodbye (to have the dog another week while knowing he was going just seemed too excruciating to bear). My sister will meet us in northern Indiana as LM doesn’t at this point want to go to the house where Gabe will live (he can always change his mind). I will take Gabe the rest of the way and meet up with my sister later. We’ll spend the night and perhaps Sunday, too, at my sister’s putting off the inevitable return home to a dog-less house.

We will get through this. It isn’t the end of the world, I know. We are doing the right thing and down the road I am confident we will feel good about the choice we made. We just have to get through it first.

I’m taking a hiatus. A sabbatical if you will, of unknown duration from blogging. My gratitude runs deep for all the thoughts and prayers that all of you have bestowed upon me and my family this summer and through this process. Enjoy the last bit of August. Celebrate the time with the people (and animals) that you love. Hug each other. I’ll be back soon.

It seems so appropos that I spoke yesterday of LM’s tender heart. We’ve had a hard night, but we talked again and while we still fight tears I think we both know we’re doing the right thing. I don’t have any idea how I will actually bring myself to drive my dog there and hand him over but God will give me the strength I need.

Last night was quite a reminder of how much I miss LM’s companionship. Being a single mom and having an only child we have a direct one-on-one relationship with very open lines of communication. I recognize the need to not try to be my child’s best friend, and to maintain a healthy parent-child relationship but ours is particularly close I suppose, because of the circumstances. It was difficult last night to not be able to sit and hug my child as he was crying. It was hard to go to bed not being able to check in on him and make sure he fell asleep. It was hard for me, to sit alone with such a feeling of loss and sadness. I just missed his company.

We have just two days left apart. I know that some of the enthusiasm about returning home is diminished when we’re aware that it also means we’re that much closer to saying goodbye to our dog, but before the conversation ended last night, LM said, “I’m glad I have you for a mom, Mom.” I said, “I can’t imagine a better son than you, LM.”

Two more days.

I have often felt that an answer to prayer needs to come with a “what to do now” booklet. The breeder we got Gabe from referred me to several people looking for a mastiff. One was a family in Indiana who already has one mastiff they have taken in as a rescue dog. I sent them an email with information about our situation, detailing the positives as well as the challenges of Gabe. The father emailed me back almost immediately with information about his family, his home, the dog they currently have and one they had to give up to a rescue years ago. Four kids, 9 acres of property and a mastiff they already adore, I knew this was a great match for what Gabe needs.

But the difficulty was having to talk with LM. I didn’t feel like I could go pick him up on Saturday and bring him home like everything was fine and then suddenly tell him that this was an option. I felt like he has ownership of this decision and he needs to know where matters stand before he comes home and sees his dog.

I spoke with my ex first, and he talked with his mom (where LM is currently staying) and then she and I talked out of earshot of LM so that she might understand the situation and could provide support for LM once we finished talking about it. I called LM a couple hours later. I didn’t want to cry, I wanted to be strong and reassuring but I sobbed. And he sobbed. And while I truly feel like this is the best decision we can make for Gabe it didn’t make it hurt any less.

And I told LM it’s just like when I let him go to his grandparents for the summer. It isn’t because I don’t love him, quite the contrary. It’s because I love him that I let him go. I know he will have a great time. I know he will be loved and have fun and learn new things. And for this same reason, I feel like we need to let Gabe go. We need to let him go where he can be happiest. I explained that it didn’t mean we wouldn’t miss him, but we had to look beyond the pain we feel and make a decision that is best for the dog. He wasn’t able to say much but at one point, in between sobs, he said, “I want to do what is best for Gabe.”

I assured him I wouldn’t make a decision without him. And that I wouldn’t do anything he was uncomfortable with. I told him to think about it, pray about it and see how his heart felt in the morning. That I would call and talk with him again and then we’d decide what to tell this family.

Some days I just don’t know how to love without causing pain. I don’t know how to let go of a dog that I love, and I don’t know how to make a decision that I know will hurt my son. But I also know that we need to do something about the situation we’re in and that perhaps in the long run, we’ll all be better for it. Perhaps.

Sure hurts like hell right now, though. And Gabe hates it when I cry.

I know I’m boring some of you with my wistful thinking about my Little Man. I saw this over at Behind the Stove today and thought I’d at least try to entertain you with some book thought.

1. A book that changed your life.
The Five People You’ll Meet in Heaven, The Chosen, The Bible. The Five Love Languages.

2. A book you’ve read more than once.
Possession. The Notebook. Plainsong. The Chosen. Love Medicine. Where the Red Fern Grows. The Road Less Traveled.

3. A book you’d want on a desert island.
Possession. (long, romantic, complicated and with great words!)

4. A book that made you giddy.
I’m not sure ‘giddy’ is the right word, but last book I swooned over? Time Traveler’s Wife. Original and well written.

5. A book that you wish had been written.
The Bible The New New Testament

6. A book that wracked you with sobs.
Almost all of Nicholas Sparks’ novels, starting with The Notebook. Also, Deep End of the Ocean, Where the Red Fern Grows (LM and I cried together)

7. A book you wish had never been written.
Sophie’s Choice. Hated this book.

8. A book you are currently reading.
Jane Smiley’s “Moo”

9. A book you’ve been meaning to read.
Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis (I’ve requested it at the library, but so far it’s not in).

Three days!! Three days!! (Sorry, I’m seriously starting to get giddy about seeing my boy again.) Another thing I’ve missed about LM:

LM can be a very serious child. His sense of humor tends towards the sarcastic and his conversations are filled with the vocabulary of an adult. He doesn’t tend to be silly, or full of the giggles or even childish but his soft heart is truly unmistakable. While he was down in Tennessee this summer, he was at the pool one day with his cousin. Little Bird quickly found friends to play with but there wasn’t anyone LM knew there. That didn’t stop him from making friends with a child with Downs Syndrome. The child, according to my stepmom, was floating on a raft around the pool and LM asked his parents if he could pull the child around the pool while he floated, to give him a “ride”. The child loved the ride, and eventually started to throw the rings into the pool for LM to fetch. It never bothered LM that this child was “different” or “strange” and he didn’t get upset when the boy couldn’t swim with him or play like any other kid. He adapted his way of playing to accommodate this boy’s needs. I’ve seen it time and time again with LM. When we were choosing a charity, as we watched a video sent to us from World Vision, I will never forget how LM looked at me at the end and said, “Call Mom. Just call.” In such simple ways, LM touches my heart every single day. He shows such sweetness under all that seriousness. Can’t wait for one big hug.

A third thing I miss about LM is his carefree attitude about “fitting in”. With little interest in sports and a healthy aversion to girls (they still have cooties) he’d rather pretend to be Anakin Skywalker than Mr. Joe Cool. His favorite clothes include anything comfortable and red, it doesn’t matter what name is on the tag or how much it cost. It didn’t phase him to get glasses and it was only at my insistence that we had the red spots on his face lasered off. (We had another spot removed just before he left for the summer and I have asked from time to time if it has stayed gone, or if it came back. Last weekend, when asked, LM’s response to me was an exasperated, “MOM, I don’t look in the mirror. I’m not preoccupied with my image!”) The kids in our neighborhood come and go and LM is quick to meet someone new and takes it in stride when the neighborhood bullies pick on him. That’s not to say he isn’t sensitive, sometimes overly so, but in general, he tends to take life as it comes and doesn’t get bogged down by peer pressure to be one of the ‘in’ crowd.

5 days left and counting (see prior post):

The second thing I miss about LM is his imagination. I built him a loft for his room when he was four. He never had an interest to put his bed in it, but instead has collected spare electronics to create his own “Command Center”. He has a DJ’s sound board, three keyboards, a Sega game system, a word processor, cords, plugs, old phones, anything he can use for his cockpit he will find a use for. He also has a huge Rubbermaid box of K’nex (for those without kids, they are the legos of today) that he will create space ships, fighter jets and hover craft with. It takes him twenty minutes to explain all the parts and pieces of one of his creations. LM has a shelf in the closet for old paper towel and toilet paper rolls, masking tape, egg cartons and the like. He has built contraptions since he was very small and continues to explore his creative side with the most basic of resources. Truly recycling at its best!

The date is set. After 54 days, I will pick up my Little Man Saturday at noon. I have butterflies. Last year, after a similar summer apart, I cried waiting for him to arrive at the designated meeting place. I know I will have difficulty focusing on much else this week so I figured I might as well dedicate my blogging over the next six days to the six things I’ve missed most about my favorite boy (in no particular order – aren’t you lucky I didn’t choose one thing for every day he’s been gone? Or every minute until I see him again? I could. I truly could. But I’ll refrain. My 2.3 readers are sweet, but more than six things about my boy might scare them away!!)

1. H.A.L.T. (Highs and Lows, Thanks) I miss talking over our days every night at dinner. I miss hearing what disappointed LM and what excited him. I miss the perspective of a 10 year old, reminding me that P.E. can truly be a low and having indoor recess can sometimes be a high. LM has had a summer of awesome experiences; he has learned how to knee board, rode a skeedo, went on a roller coaster, made several new friends and took on new responsibilities. We have kept in contact, talking on the phone every few days but I still feel out of the loop for how he feels about his summer and what has truly left a mark on his impressionable heart. I also miss the way LM listens to what was important about my day. He pays close enough attention that some days he can predict exactly what I will say. I miss the days when both of us agree that we are most thankful for the time we have to spend together. I will enjoy our three hours in the car together to get roughly caught up and then our regular routine to follow over the next several days, weeks and months to re-establish our open lines of daily communication.

Just go see “Oliver” today. Trust me. You’re one click away from a great big smile.

We sat at the same table last week and although we never spoke then, we acknowledged that it had been nice playing together with a hand shake at the end. This week, we started at the same table but then he was moved to another and he was out before our tables merged again. He stood by to watch and I noticed he was cheering me on at times. He even came over to wish me luck and made me laugh with his enthusiasm for my sorry chip count. He stood off to the side, laughing, dancing to the music in a funny guy-who-has-no-idea-how-to-country-dance sort of way. He kept checking in to see how I was progressing (I wasn’t) and was as disheartened as I was when I was taken out in fifth place with my pair of jacks.

I went over to talk with another girl that had been playing at my table. She had been fun to play cards with and was engaged to the guy running the tables so I figured I’d surely have a chance to hang out with her again and I wanted to get to know her better.

The guy asked if I knew how to do the dances. I admitted I knew some of them. He wanted to learn and said he had been asking a couple women to teach him but they just looked at him like he was crazy. I didn’t offer, but then, he didn’t really ask me, either.

We stood and watched the final few players until a song came on that I knew and I went out to dance. When I came back he came to talk to me again and was dancing around in a funny but cute way. He was laid back, with a good sense of humor. Cute in a really great kind of a way, personable. A song came on where it tells you the dance steps throughout and I told him this was his song. The other woman wanted to go dance to it, too, and he begged me to come with them. It’s a song I loathe, but I went along. We had no idea what we were doing despite the instructions but we laughed and had a great time anyway.

With so few people left in the bar and it being well past midnight, the dj put on a slow song, one that just hits me in a certain way right now, and I knew it was my cue to leave. I made sure to tell the girl that I’d see her next week. I hadn’t caught her name but I’ll be sure to introduce myself next week.

I headed out to my car wondering how it might have all been so very different. If only he weren’t married.

(As I came home in this melancholy mood, I took Gabe out for a quick potty break before hitting the shower. I take him out just outside the door at times like these, lest he see the cat in the window and bark his head off in the still of the night. Instead, some neighbor cat was out on the prowl and Gabe spotted it under the street light and nearly ripped my hand of trying to get to it, barking up a storm the whole time. I drug him into the house and went back outside to clean up his mess. Nothing like reality to snap ya back into the present, is there?)