On Shouldering Through and Adopted Boys

Well, several days later and I'm back to feeling like blogging again.  Lots of things to blog about, really.

But mainly I'm happy that my student seems to be moving forward steadily.  I've spent several nights the past few weeks calling to check on him, trying to help how I can, making sure I give the advice I remember being important--mainly being his source to vent to.  He's pretty pissed at a few of his extended family members, and he has a right to be.  I helped him get the information he needed to refile his FAFSA, so hopefully he'll get more money this school year without having to take out loans.

I went to the visitation for his father--the service was right after, and I left before it started.  I don't do preachy funeral services very well.  I would've stayed if he needed me to, but he said he was fine, and he looked fine.  There were over 350 people who came through the doors.  It took me nearly 20 minutes just to get through the line to talk to him for three minutes.  It almost felt like a waste, but when I saw him smile I knew it wasn't.  Ironically, I ran into another student of mine at that visitation, but that's another story.  So many people came out to pay their respects, and I was glad for that, although it meant he had to do a lot of greeting.  Those kinds of services seem to be more about helping other people deal with your loss rather than the other way around.  At least my experience is that other people seemed to you to let them tell you how sorry they were and cry a bit, because it was appropriate.  They weren't really there to hold you and let you cry.  I remember feeling like I was a Grief Manager for the entire thing when it happened to me.  

When I got to him, I hugged him.  He looked a bit more grown up in his suit, a muscled up country boy cleaned up, really.  I told him I was proud of him, of the man he was becoming.  And after I left, I thought about what it meant to be able to tell someone that.  Someone who is not my blood son, I mean.  And I realized that I really care about what happens to him in a personal, family kind of way.  Quite a bit, actually.

I appreciate that he let me in on this experience.  I am learning more and more that the way you move past your own problems is by walking with someone else through theirs.  I had always thought that being a Virgil applied only to my Dante, and that I was to lead him through Hell's circles with my prior knowledge so that he could come through unscathed to the other side of such things.  I'm starting to realize that so many other times it means giving your shoulder to somebody else to lean on and walking through the pain right there with them.  Nobody ever comes through hellish things unscathed.  It just hurts a little less when you have somebody to share it with.

I'm proud of you, Drew.

--xo--  Virgil