He turns 27 years old today.
I usually make his favorite cake. We take him out to the restaurant of his choice. He gets some presents. We sing 'Happy Birthday' as he blows out the candles. I put the 'magic' re-light candles on his cake. I've done this for several years. When the kids were little they would be so excited to see the candles light up again right after they blew them out. Now, I put those candles on simply to bring those childhood memories back for a moment. Silly, I know. But, I don't think it would seem right if we didn't still do it.
This year looks different.
Braxton is living thousands of miles (approximately 7,374.5 miles-I've Map Quested it) away in the tiny remote village of Koutan, in Guinea, Africa. While he's actually traveling with fellow Peace Corps volunteers this week, he now calls another place 'home' and he has another 'family.'
When he left the United States, I remember wondering how I would feel when important dates came up on the calendar and he wasn't here to celebrate as usual. We've had one Christmas pass and several family birthdays. But this time, it will be his birthday and he isn't here for it. He won't be our center of attention.
Strangely, I feel differently than I thought I would.
Of course, if I had my way, I would have kept all my kids little and at home with me, forever.
We all know that's totally unrealistic but I feel so blessed and so fortunate to have had many good years raising our kids. Those times bring an instant smile to my face. It makes sense, at least to me, that I'd love to do it all over again.
But, life happens.
Kids grow up exactly as they are meant to and, most times, it means they will leave you at some point.
Hearing Braxton tell us he had applied to the Peace Corps made my heart jump in terror. The unknown. The helplessness of knowing I couldn't protect him in a foreign country. The juxtaposition of wanting him to find his own way in this life while wanting him to stay right here with me. It continued to thump when he said he'd been accepted and then, again, as the day of his departure grew closer.
Watching him walk away, at the airport, was one of the hardest moments so far.
Now, knowing he's celebrating a birthday away is cause for another heart-flop.
But several months have passed since he left us.
I'm surprised to say that I feel better about all this separation stuff.
Braxton's fierce commitment to working with and to helping others, in such an extreme measure, has made me realize this is called growth.
This is called life.
No, we've never experience this separation within our family before. But, it's truly 'ok.'
Our son has gained another family. Funny, but he now has even more family members than he does as a Stewart in the States! And that's saying a lot because Ed's family is a large one.
Not only has Braxton gained two host families (one during training and one in his village) but he's also told us how this group, or class, of PCV's has become another family, as well.
How could we possibly ask for more?
Since birthdays aren't celebrated in his village--he says no one knows when they were born--there won't be a cake with 'magic' re-light candles. No one will be singing "Happy Birthday" to him across the kitchen table tonight.
But, it's really alright.
He's where he needs to be and this past year of his life has been remarkable.
Life-changing.
Part of being a parent. Letting our kids go. Letting our kids reach for their dreams.
I'm getting better at this. At least I think I am.
Seems Braxton isn't the only one who is growing because of this experience.
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Braxton
Happy Birthday to you
It is what it is.
p
