A year and a half ago, when things were really bad with Luca, and he was running wild in the streets and banging his head against walls and doing other things that I won’t mention, and he was hating me, but also himself, and I thought he might end up dead or I would lose what was left of my mind — I bought a Prayer Box.
An Alanon friend told me that a Prayer Box was a place you put your worries. You wrote them on slips of paper and stuck them in the box and sometimes your prayers would be answered.
So I tried a version of this for Luca. I found this beautiful wooden box with a chalkboard lid and drawers and slots to hold cool stuff. A friend hosted a healing circle for me in a tipi and invited other friends to come and write prayers and wishes for Luca which would then go into the box.
In my previous jet-setty life, if someone had told me I would one day find myself sitting cross-legged in a tipi filled with crystals and dream catchers and puffs of burning sage, reverentially passing around a talking stick and summoning positive mojo to heal my son, I would have scoffed into my martini glass.
But with my jet-setty days long gone, replaced by Nightmare Divorce Years, I was ready to try anything. Which is why I bought a prayer box and asked my friends to join me in a tipi and share their healing wishes for Luca.
People made lovely prayer offerings: poems, letters, talismans. I put all of them inside the box and when I went home I placed the box on top of Luca’s dresser.
Over the past year-and-a-half as we weathered ups and downs at wilderness camp, then his residential treatment facility, I would walk into Luca’s bedroom and stare at the box, stuffed with its good wishes and positive vibes. I would banish the cynicism from the corners of my weary mind, take a deep breath, and close my eyes in a silent prayer.
I prayed that his broken places would be healed.
Later this week I will get on a plane which will take me to Luca’s boarding school for his graduation. After a year and three months, he has completed his program. He has reached the top level and is ready to come home.
I am no Pollyanna. I do not think all has been healed. I know we are in for a new set of challenges when he returns. He will be going from an extremely structured environment back to his parents’ homes, and all bets are off.
But this I know: my son went into the wilderness a broken boy, and has emerged, a year-and-a-half later, a young man.
And because of that, I can say my prayer was answered.
You made me cry! There will always be struggles, but you have all had time to heal, time to rest, time to find your inner strength. You have worked diligently to make this happen. Breathe, Mama. You are awesom!
Thanks, Lucy — means a lot coming from you.
I am so happy for you both. It’s an upward battle and you have weathered the scars and you will both prevail. You are strength and beauty. Enjoy this moment in the sun!
So hard to have a child who needs to be in the hands of the ‘experts’ – I know, I had to hand one of mine over for a while. It was terrible for him and us but I believe it saved his life and probably our family, too. Everyone had a chance to heal and reset.
That’s a very touching post! Congrats to Luca and all the best to all of you on a new chapter.
You have done a wonderful job! Your son will get older and when he has children, he will call on you and bring the grand babies to your house, knowing you are the comfort and love that has always been there for him.
After my ex got 49% custody, following leaving a DV marriage and losing faith in our court system. I was trying to stay positive and focus on the future, but the days that my son was gone, the emptiness of his room, the silence of the house, the regret and fear that I could no longer protect him would darken my spirit and a sadness loomed over me. My counselor gave me a heart box, for my son and I. I took the box home and my son and I decorated hearts and placed them in the box and he wrote on the box “Me and Mom.” It was one of the best things that we could have done for healing. There are times before he goes to his Dad’s my son asks “I am always with you right Mom?” And he will get our heart box and place it in my hand. And I will give him a hug and tell him “Yes you are always with me, you are always in my heart.”
WOW — that made me cry.
I am sending you a virtual written prayer for your prayer box. Your love for Luca is clear and strong, and he is lucky you are his mother. I hope to hear good things from you about Luca’s post-graduate life – you both deserve it.
Thanks, Sharon!
I AM a PollyAnna.
But to me, what it means is that you can see the deep joy even in the midst of deep suffering, not that there is no suffering. Sure, you are sure to have more speedbumps and detours, that seems certain, as no life is without suffering. BUT (and this is where PollyAnna kicks in after the others have left off), you know to enjoy the beauty that is yours to enjoy. Seeing your son in this new way, with new health and healing, is gorgeous. You deserve to enjoy this moment, to appreciate all that has gone into it, to feel deep and powerful joy. If you were able to reach this place (and you were!), then just imagine what else might be possible. I am so happy that you are here, now, and that beauty has come from pain. The pain would be meaningless, but for that beauty. Wishing you and Luca every blessing.
You are a “Pollyanna” in the best sense of the word.
Thank you.
Congrats to both of you. The ways that things can go wrong seem endless during dark times. I hope there’s mostly light ahead of you.
How beautiful for you to acknowledge this — and my prayers will continue for you both, during this transition.
SO many feelings after reading this post: happy, wistful, proud, optimistic, but mostly just THRILLED for you!
Congrats, Pauline.
In the spirit of dream catchers and talking sticks, sending you good thoughts.
God is Great!