Growing Pains

Since the accident, Jacob has spent a lot of time at his best friend's house.  In the summer time, his sleepovers stretch effortlessly from one night to three or more.  I am intensely grateful to the family for welcoming my boy into their home, which is a typically functioning family, and a generally happy place to be.  While I will grouch to Tim that Jake leaves the "death house" every chance he gets, I completely understand his compulsion; I sometimes wish I could pack a quick bag and run away to my best friend's, too.

I remind myself that while Jake is at his friends, he doesn't have to stumble on triggers of his tragically lost sister every five minutes.  And let's face it, even once her coats are finally moved from the coat rack at the back door (whenever that may happen; don't ask me, because I frankly have no idea), they will still hang there, ghost-like apparitions in the empty spaces they leave behind.

While Jake is gone, I will get a phone call if he wants money.  Check in calls or texts are always initiated by me, and usually go something like this, "Jake, sweetie, are you EVER coming home?"  or "Twelve is too young to leave home."  or "Your kittens need their father."

This is so polar opposite from everything I ever experienced with Cory.

Cory did check in.  Multiple times.  And sometimes would call to ask to come home early.  She would always call or text me the small, funny details of her adventures away from home. When she returned home, there was a complete blow by blow of her stay.

The difference is stark, to say the least.  At first, I had hurt feelings that Jake was so obviously fine to be away from me.  He doesn't love me as much as Cory did.  He doesn't really need me.  These immature and cruel feelings came whether I wanted them to or not; isn't that how feelings go?

Finally, it bothered me so much I decided to try to figure out what the difference was.  I mean, come on, I know my son loves me, very much.  There was a diad between Cory and I, sure, but it was housed within a very solid triad made up of my children and I- the permanent components of my immediate family.

So I researched healthy attachments and the typical emotional development of children, preadolescents, and teenagers, boys and girls.  Guess what?
 Jake is behaving like a typically developing twelve year boy.

I think I sometimes forget that just as I have to raise a child while I grief, Jacob also has to grow up as he grieves.  The show must go on.  He has developmental tasks that must be accomplished, to the best of his abilities.  And he is actually doing quite well, considering.

So why all the hurt and misgivings on my part?  Well, I thought something must be wrong.  I have never raised a typically developing pre-teen before.  Cory suffered from severe separation anxiety since she was a young child- a common precursor for early onset bipolar or a predisposition to developing it later in life.  I have never parented this age with a child who didn't have some difficulties with being away from me.  It feels weird because it's not my normal.

 The thing is, it's such a good, good sign.  Jake's dad suffers from bipolar disorder, just as Cory's biological father does.  There has always been the possibility that he, too, would end up with bipolar.  The fact that he is trooping right along, nary a symptom in sight, is a blessing I should get right down on my knees for, instead of bemoaning the fact that he doesn't miss me enough!

I have a healthy son.  Cory has a healthy brother.  Do you know how happy this would make her?  She worried for him, just as I did.  Somewhere, she is heaving a huge sigh of relief.