My Packing List

"Bye! I love you!"

"I love you, too, Mommy!"

I closed the door and shut off the light so I could see out the window into the dark morning.  There he went.  My baby.  My brand new middle schooler.  My first child edged closer and closer to the busy road in front of our house.  Only a few feet away from him massive vessels capable of his demise roared past, oblivious to his presence. He stood, unmoved and otherwise unalarmed by their proximity.

On his back he wore a single bag.  He shifted the weight on his shoulders as he peered into the waking dawn, awaiting the next leg of his journey.  My stomach clenched as a single thought struck my consciousness: did I provide him with all he needs for this day?  What did I pack in his bag?

Every day, whether we know it or not, we are packing a bag for our children.  This is true in a literal sense as we consider whether we reminded them to finish their homework or packed a healthy lunch. However, what hit me that morning was how I was intentionally packing a figurative bag for my son. Would he face his days with everything he needs from me?

I don't need to tell you what a big world our children are facing.  The road ahead of them is dark and scary; filled with huge obstacles that can either take them somewhere, or flatten them where they stand.  As parents, we can only hold their hands for so long before they start to let go and walk out towards that busy road by themselves.  Yes, we will go with them as far as we can, but eventually they are out there on their own.

What gives me hope, though, is the daily knowledge that I can still help by packing a bag for them.  I can fill that bag with whatever I choose.  I have the choice daily to look at everything I have at my disposal, and decide what I will provide for them.  So, I make a packing list.  Like every good list, I give it a title and number it:

"My Packing List"

1.  Love.  Does he leave our doorstep each morning knowing that I'm his biggest cheerleader?  Does he know that no matter what happens today, whether he rocks that math quiz or ends up in detention that there's nothing he can do to change my love for him?  Did he go to bed last night with the reminder of the same thing?  Does he know that no matter how far away he goes, that I will be waiting here with open arms when he comes back home?

2.  Safety.  Does he know that our house is a safe place?  That inside this house are people that love and support him, and even on our worst days we will still fight for him.  Does he know that there are no stupid questions here, and he can ask me anything?  Does he know it's okay to fail?  I mean, like, epic mistakes... Does he know I'm still going to think he's awesome, and that I've made a few of those, too?  Does he know that sometimes I'm going to tell him, "No," and that it's only because I'm looking out for his best interest?  Does he know that anyone he brings home will be welcomed and loved no matter who they are?

3.  Friends.  Do I know every single contact in his phone because I'm his mom and that's why?  Am I strategically placing him in environments where he's going to make solid friends with great parents?  Do I like and trust a sacred few of those parents and secretly give them permission to be the parent to him when he doesn't want to listen to me?  Am I teaching him how to be a good friend to others and how to nurture those friendships?  Did I warn him that though everyone he meets deserves to be loved by him, that not everyone he meets should be welcomed into the deepest parts of his life?  Did I give him the tools to figure that out?

4.  Time.  Does he have access to my full attention at special times, even if it's not every single day?  Am I spending time with him away from everyone else so we can bond?  Do we talk often enough that having a tough conversation doesn't ruin our relationship?  Does he have enough time to do his homework without rushing most days?  Does he have enough time to get a good night's sleep?  Does he have time to do nothing but be a kid?

As I scroll down the list, I begin to check some off.  Yep, I packed love today.  Good, I packed time today.  Some days I feel like a rockstar as I check off every item on the list.  Other days I feel sloppy as I realize I missed one, or two, or all four.  Even on the bad days, though,  I know I've been packing his bag full of those good things for so long that there will still be extra left over from the days before.

It would be easy to overanalyze my packing list, and whether or not I filled my son's bag full enough today.  Moments later, though, the bus pulls up in a warm, hazy light.  He bravely climbs up the stairs as the driver switches on the light so he can see the steps ahead of him.  The bus lurches and rumbles off into the horizon.

I only watch for a moment.  He's gone from my sight for now, but soon enough he'll bring his bag home again for me to refill.  I have to get moving, too.  I have two more bags upstairs to pack.