But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. Luke 15:20 (NIV)
Youngest little birdie has one foot out of the nest spending one or two nights a week at the fire station, so husband and I have gotten used to quiet nights in our pajamas, eating a quick meal and surfing the Internet. It’s nice, not only to sleep soundly with no noise and all the lights in the house off, but the fact that when I get home from work in the evening, the house is still as clean as it was when I left. But, now oldest son has come flying back home. I know once upon a time, I was the one who was whining about them all going off and leaving me. It’s all in what you get used to, I guess. Oldest son is between seasonal work with the National Park Service and a return to school. We are thrilled that he is back on track with his original plan laid out for him by a Florida Cracker who was once in his shoes, so when he had ten weeks between engagements, we were more than happy to offer him a place to roost. It’s just that I didn’t think about the implications. The slam of the microwave at midnight when young men get the munchies. The television blaring over our heads while we try to sleep. The lights left on all hours of the day. The borrowing of my car. The expectation that a big meal will once more be ready at 6:00 PM. I don’t think oldest son thought about the implications as well. He certainly was not ready to walk into his old room to see it freshly painted with new carpets, his ancestor’s blue glass bowls on the shelf that once held his trophies and my photographs framed and hanging on the wall. “What will I do with my stuff?” he wondered aloud. I pointed to the closet and the attic. Cram it all in there was my message. I told husband later, I guess I may have to remove some of the knickknacks. He gave me an exasperated look and said, “Ya, think?” I suppose I wasn’t too kind when one of my first questions to oldest son was, “When are you leaving?” I tried to cover it up with, “We need to make your plane reservations,” which only made it worse. I did have to laugh when husband sat shirtless in his boxers at the computer desk in the guestroom (read, oldest son’s former room) while I lounged in my pajama bottoms and undershirt asking oldest son questions while he unpacked. I think this transition is just as much as an adjustment for him as it is for us. It must be awful to go from living your own life to moving back home with the “‘rents.” I am glad God is so much more welcoming to me. The Bible says He will run to meet us. Guess I better take off my PJs and get my track shoes on.
PS I wrote this yesterday knowing that today would be a long day at work. Imagine my surprise when I came home to find oldest son had gone to the grocery store, cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen and ran the dishwasher. I think I may have misjudged him. Ya think?