Waypoint

Ive been out of sorts for a few months now. I’ve passed a waypoint, and I miss the last leg of my journey as I struggle to embrace the next. Im not great with change.

In flying a waypoint is a predetermined spot where you change either speed or direction, reset your compass and move forward on your journey, leaving the last leg behind.

My Son, my roommate, my world, left my home and set about carving himself a life for himself. With his mum, his sister and his girlfriend, we drove up with him to Edmonton, helped set him up, and left him behind. We said goodbye and drove away.

“Can we go back and get him?” I asked his mum on the drive home.

“Yes” she replied through her tears.

We both knew we couldn’t. He’s starting his own journey now. He has a new heading, speed and destination.

The night he was packing was hard. For the last time I walked to the stairs and yelled up what I have yelled a thousand times.

“Im off to bed Ali, say your prayers.” My voice cracked.

He came down and we both hugged the hell out of each other. We silently cried. His tears running down my neck are inexplicable to describe. If I where to try I would say I physically felt love for me. I hope he felt mine.

“Im going to make you proud Dad.” He stated to me as I hugged him goodbye in Edmonton.

Already done, Son. You are a better man than I have ever been. You have an integrity that’s palpable. You never cheat. You are accountable. You push yourself. I never deserved you. You never stopped loving me, even when I give you reasons to. You are the greatest young man I know. Not because of me, but in spite of me. Its me, that needs to step up and make YOU proud.

So how do I do that? I stop feeling sorry for myself. I focus on Brooklyn the two weeks that I have her. I look after myself so my son doesn’t worry. I get myself in shape. I use the extra time alone to perhaps write something meaningful. I pray. I ask God to use me for good. I go see my sister more. Help her walk again. I have some time now.

In short, I need to change my speed and direction. Reset my compass and point myself to a new destination. What’s the destination you might ask? To make my two kids really proud, and not be someone they need to worry about, so they can focus on their very bright futures.

Thank you to Dwight and Anna, who over the years helped in many ways. Its not easy blending lives. Thanks to the teachers, coaches, friends, cousins, aunts and uncles for all the efforts made.

But most of all, thank you Cherlyn. You raised a wonderful son who has already left his mark on this world. I am eternally grateful to you for our children. Alastair, I miss you, but I’m ok. Can’t wait to come visit you.

If you read this far, thank you.

Tris.