Thursday, August 2, 2018

Shifting Sands; (#12-28)

Amazing how time has moved quickly for me this last month.

After the boys movie premiere on the 15th of July, Weston and I took off for Oregon for a week.

Travelling so soon after the big event felt sudden and out of sync with the rhythms of our small family, but we (I) was determined.

And we were blessed.

Once we got to the old home state and were greeted by Mom and Dad, Rosebud inevitably began to fade from what was right in front of us.  It's like I shed a layer of skin and was able to absorb the old familiar again.  The trees, upon trees, upon trees.  The low altitude air.  The blue rivers and rounded hills.  The Gravenstein apple tree.  The nutria, ducks and geese.  The flowers.  And the comfort of mom's food and their immaculate home.  It was warm, but air conditioning was always near.

It was great to walk with Mom in the cool mornings, and Weston enjoyed having his own space with a large bed to sprall on.

I was most concerned about him before leaving.  He so did not want to go and miss out on his next movie making venture.  Thankfully, he was a great help through the airports when I was especially tired from the early early morning and not being able to get much sleep the night before.

One of the things he was dreading happened early in our stay.  We visited a couple schools.  When we pulled up to the first place, I prayed for grace and wisdom to handle the newness and awkwardness and hardly dared to hope for much more than mild disinterest.

We were met by the new principle, Ami, and she was fun.  She was smart and bright and not pushy at all.  Her eagerness stemmed from a pride in her school and she was tuned to anything we were interested in.  She showed us several rooms and a few different buildings, and as she began to speak about curriculum, both of us got more curious.

After a while we all sat down at a table in her office and I watched my son engage.  He had his own questions, and she (bless her heart) treated him with respect and interest as an equal -- never going through me or reacting to his statements, but taking him seriously and without expectation.  I saw him feel valued.  And I saw a light go on inside.  An excitement in possibility and freedom.  School for Weston has most often been something to endure and get through as quickly as possible, but now here was something unexpected.  Ami spoke of avenues where one could combine their interests with their education.  Mind blowing.

It was such a gift.  It was like a window opened and some light poured in.  More than I had even dared to pray for.

Much of our other time was spent with family and eating amazing food and always ending the night with ice cream and Poldark.  Mom introduced us to the series and we were hooked from the start: Weston snuggled in a super soft overly large blanket, and Mom with the remote.  I was so happy for this regulating practice we could share together.

Dad was in his office working on his next class or editing old family movies.

Weston and I also got to go in the hot tub, see the Mariota sports center, visit Dorris Ranch, take in a free jazz concert downtown, get some new shoes he loved, and help with meals in the big kitchen.

We also attended an afternoon service with the congregation David and I used to attend called Reformation Fellowship.  It was mild and longer than what we were used to, but I appreciated getting to see some familiar faces and ask for prayer in our family's time of discernment.

Visiting with friends and family was a gift.  When we are often so far away we miss out on little things.  Listening to Weston engage with his future cousin-in-law and uncle Randy to mock the commentators during the rugby world cup was a strikingly humorous time.  We also played pinocle and visited a few open houses.

Weston remarked that he came into himself a bit with his extended family.  That, without his older brother there to speak first and take up some of the attention, it was easier for him to assert his own voice into the conversation.

Thank you Lord.

He entered another world and began to see possibilities there.

I was so full of thoughts and agenda, that I no longer blogged.  I didn't desire to really. I even forgot a few times to read my daily lesson.  Ha.  I was surrounded with stimulus and people I rarely get to see, and Mom was now feeding many more than normal so there was always something helpful that could be done in the kitchen.

One day Weston and I arranged several vases of flowers from Mom's gardens and deposited them all around the house.  I watched him assert his own designs.

I watched him grow.

My young man-son is coming into his own.

God help us give him space when he needs it, offer hugs and a listening ear if even he seems at first to not require them, and to admire as his unique soul begins to emerge out from the nebulous shadows of fear and uncertainty.
His own tower of veg

With Grandma at one of the open houses in Springfield.  He's so tall!

Playing with Grandpa's battery operated bubble machine in the gazebo.

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