It's been three weeks since Peter moved out. I have seen him once when I drove him to a doctor's appointment in a neighboring town. He spoke about 30 words to me roundtrip. All communication has been text, basically about something he needed me to do for him. I have not been invited into his apartment even to the point of being told not to come. On the positive side, he has reached out to mom to meet for lunch once a week for which I am grateful. Her report is that the job isn't his dream job but he really likes living on his own and being independent. I wish I had a mileage read out of how much walking Peter does a week. I am proud of him for doing the hard thing and fighting to be independent.
It does sadden me that he does not want involvement with me. I can't help but think at times, "was I really that bad of a mother?? Did I do that horrible of a job?" I know I failed in many ways. Yet I also know I tried to the best of my ability and I am okay with the grace that will need to cover my failures. But in all honesty I can echo Peter's declaration. "I really like living on my own and being independent!" I took over his room as my own, thanks to Mom and her handy man neighbor who restored the beat up space. I have spread out my stuff making my old room the craft/guest room. I want to get a twin bed but meanwhile I have an air mattress for anyone who wants to come. Things are in there places and there is a peace and calm that has taken up residence in my house. I do occasionally catch myself blaming Peter for various things being misplaced or messed up to only realize it had to be me. I am the only one who lives there!! Honestly and truly I am enjoying having my own sacred space and living alone. But then...
....comes the guilt. It might be something like survivors guilt. I feel bad that I am enjoying Peter not being around. I think of all the space I have and it feels so extravagant. I knew large families in Africa that lived in homes even a third the size of my current home. It feels selfish. I had a therapist once tell me that I didn't seem to have much problem accepting that God would allow suffering in my life but I had much more difficulty accepting the good, gifts and blessing . I think there is some truth to that. So currently I am practicing gratitude over guilt. I am thankful for my cute house, my sweet bedroom, my extra space and my big walk in closet!
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