Seeing Through the Cracks

Chapter 34

August comes and our family participates in two annual events. The Rogers Cup Tennis Masters Series comes to Toronto, and this year it will be Nick and I who give our time to volunteer at the event for ten days. Some years Jake has also joined us, but he is unable to take off any time from work. Brian doesn't volunteer but helps with driving, as needed, and he always attends a match or two. The second event is Barb's annual barbecue, and even though she is no longer with us, everyone who participates agrees that we will continue the legacy every summer now in her honour. Both events are fun, one much more meaningful and heartfelt than the other. It's so nice that everyone can gather together and share their favourite memories of Barb. These friendships have spanned many years and we're all happy that we will continue to nurture them. August also brings the celebration of Brian's mom's birthday, and this year she turns 101 years old. She is still doing amazingly well, still living on her own and in good health. It is rare to know someone at this ripe age, let alone be related to them. While last year we hosted a large 100th birthday party for her, this year it is lower key and just the five of us go out for a lovely dinner to celebrate. She enjoys being with her family and adores her grandsons. At her age we don't want to worry her, so she isn't aware of the circumstances we've dealt with over the past several months with Jake. She is very happy just to see everyone's smiling, healthy faces. For Brian, Nick, Jake and I, it is also a celebration of a successful summer, as we come down to the last month before Jake returns to school.

Jake has had an amazing experience in his summer job. He has learned much and gotten a sense of what his world will look like after he graduates and begins to embark on a full time-career. The summer break is winding down, and the company Jake works for hosts a staff party for all of its employees. Jake organizes carpooling with a co-worker so he can attend. He tells me all about it the next time we speak. He is super-excited to tell me how well-organized the event was and how much fun he had. He's feeling quite pleased with himself for all that he's accomplished. He is especially excited that his boss took him aside at the party to express how happy he has been with Jake's work, and to make the offer to have Jake back at the company the following spring. Hearing this news brings a smile to my face; I'm happy for my son. Although I am not surprised at his work ethic and his ability to get along well with co-workers, it is still nice to know that someone else recognizes and appreciates those qualities in Jake. The fact that he has a summer job to walk into next year is a testament to the hard work he has done, both personally and professionally these past many months. I am grateful to the company for giving Jake a chance, and for grooming him, somewhat, for his future in the technology field.

Jake has been as diligent as possible about taking his herbal remedies, eating right, and exercising while living with his brother. He has established some excellent habits by spending his down time in healthy activities. He has come to realize that he is now able to play a little video-gaming on a console for short periods of time. He doesn't need to engage in multi-player interactive games that seem to go on endlessly. These games drain his time and energy, and create the risk of getting sucked into a vortex of never-ending battle. But a brief game or two of a single-player game provides enough entertainment to satisfy his need for amusement. And he's added a list of many other pastimes that bring him personal satisfaction and gratification. Jake has returned to art and creative writing. He's also learned to schedule himself and take on the responsibility of attending to a job. He has done no counselling sessions with a professional since April, but he had Nick to talk through any of his concerns and frustrations. He has registered for his second year courses, on time, and feels confident about returning to start second year in his Software Engineering program, sans the co-op portion.

At this time last year Jake realized he had lost the opportunity to participate further in the co-op program, creating much of his anxiety about starting second year. Now he's put himself in a scenario very similar to co-op, by securing another summer with this amazing technology company. He will re-enter university with four months of industry hands-on coding and programming experience, which will enhance his confidence. And he has a wonderful home to move into with someone he knows well and adores, who has offered him creature comforts similar to his family home. It is an exciting time for him and for me. There is much to look forward to and every reason to believe that Jake can succeed. There is also an overriding feeling that we're not out of the woods, so to speak, just yet. School is tough and Jake's program is quite challenging; the workload can be heavy at times, and there will be less time for activities that Jake enjoys. Nick will not be present each day and Jake will be navigating his way across town on transit; school is no longer walking distance. Jake hasn't established a social network at school or in Guelph, and I will not be walking him to classes to get him started this time. For now, focusing on feeling confident that Jake has what it takes to move forward and succeed will overshadow any misgivings I may have. I will assume all is well while I continue to keep my eyes and ears open for the possibility that I am needed again to intervene.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before Jake returns to school, we have an afternoon alone on our front porch. It's a beautiful day, and we are revelling in the late summer heat, knowing that soon the days will begin to cool as fall awaits us just around the corner. We're enjoying a cold beverage and I feel close to Jake; a bond between us has grown as a result of his willingness to come forward months ago, and share vulnerability and courage. I feel a pull to broach a delicate subject that has sat with me in discomfort for quite some time. I want to know and yet I am afraid of the answer. My need for clarity outweighs my fear, and I take the risk.

I say to Jake, "Do you recall that evening that I came to visit you in your previous school residence and there was that horrible odour coming from your room?"

"Yes," he replies.

"You told me that it was your dirty recycle containers that smelled, but it seemed far worse a stench to me than that."

"Yes," he says.

"What was it, really?" I ask.

I am floored by his formidable and sad answer.

"That was the smell of me dying, mom."

These are words that no parent ever wants to hear, and they leave my soul feeling utterly fractured. If it was never clear to me before just how deep the struggle was for Jake during that first semester of year two, it is now markedly evident. Hearing those words is a blistering slap of reality for me, and I now fully recognize that we dodged a fast moving bullet.

Jake is telling me that he was literally dying; he'd given up, he was checking out. A deep, despondent, gut-wrenching awareness has shifted within me and I am speechless. Suddenly the tears come forth in one giant rush, and I reach out and grab Jake, folding him into my arms, sharing my immense anguish and intense love for him. If there was ever any doubt that his life was in need of saving just a few short months ago, it is certainly evident now, and the thoughts of what could have been overwhelm me like a tsunami. I am struck by a feeling of desolation and horror at what might have been. I have a momentary flash of the time that Jake was a baby and not thriving, at times seeming so fragile. And then I see Jake lying in bed, as a teenager, so ill and lifeless. We have witnessed Jake's near-departure before and to know it came to this point again is agonizing. The realization that Jake is still here and is very alive, healthier and stronger eventually returns to me, and there are no words powerful enough to describe my gratitude in having this second chance with my son.   

Thank you for following my story. Don't forget to vote on this chapter, if you enjoyed it (click the star on the bottom left). I also welcome your feedback.