Today I met a neighbor that I've seen around with her dog. I was pulling weeds at the foreclosed home across the street (hey, it's still a house I have to look at) and she walked by. I'm a friendly bloke and said hello. We chatted.
I'm a pretty open book.
She asked where DS2 had gone...she used to see him at the bus stop and noticed he was gone this year. So, I told her. I didn't share gory details, but just that he is at a boarding school and is very happy there. I did tell her about his joining the family five years ago and that so many things about family were hard for him.
Then she tells me a story.
She bought a dog. The dog howled at night. The dog was mean to her first dog. The dog just didn't fit in her family...so, she sent him to a foster doggie home.
She totally gets what it's like to 'send a child away'.
Hubby and I have a 90-10 rule. Ninety percent of people in America are idiots. Maybe not in all parts of their lives - but at some point. Heck, I've hit in the 90 before. Today, she made me know my rule is right. I mean...REALLY?
I know that I speak 'lightly' about the subject sometimes. That is because it's tough to be sad all the time...it's tough on even him...while he doesn't seem to care if I'm sad - it does something to him. It does something to me when he's sad. I can't tell you the relief I feel when I speak with him and he's excited and happy. Yep, broken hearted on the inside because he can't have that here with me, but so darn pleased that he's got happiness in his life - wherever that means he has to be.
However, speaking lightly does NOT mean that I would equate our situation with my son with the puppy who couldn't stay.