In our footsteps...

This is my incredible son and his incredible sons. I remember like yesterday the day Pete was born. He was my first. Since as far back as I can remember all I wanted was to be a mother and so when they put him in my arms the first time...I was in paradise!
Unfortunately for Pete, I was young and pretty hard on him. He survived my trial-and-error-lack-of-guidebook parenting. He also survived the tumultous and sometimes nasty fighting that went on between his father and me. Things were quite often wild, outlandish, and difficult. There was a picture of my husband and me next to the word dysfunction in the dictionary.
Don't misunderstand...we had good times too. The fights, however, were extreme. And often. I remember Pete having lots of nightmares when he was very little. My father in law told me they probably occurred because he witnessed his dad and I fighting alot. Perhaps he was right.
We divorced when Pete was twelve. By that time there were three other children. They all adjusted positively and became healthy adults and members of society. I am very proud of them.
Before Pete got married he expressed a concern that his marriage could end up like mine. I assured him that divorce was not genetic! He could make it work. We talked at length about marriage, responsibility, about putting God into the relationship; about give and take, about learning from the mistakes of our own parents.
Nonetheless, today my heart is aching for my son. My heart is sad for two little boys and their dad. My concerns involve a son who is getting divorced.
I think of all the times I could cover his boo boos with bandaids. I recall a five year old coming home from Kindergarten upset that some other children made fun of him. I could fix it with homemade cookies. When he was six he woke me one morning singing in my ear, "My buddy, my buddy and me..." We made it through Jr. High and puberty...together. Even when he was nineteen he emailed "Mom" with a serious concern. Together we found reassurance and peace.
But once again Satan's ploys and tactics have destroyed one of our greatest assets. The family. And it is my son's. No amount of bandaids, cookies or singing will fix it. And while his heart aches, mine does too. A mother's heartache is quite often not her own. I would speculate that the pain our children go through is harder on us than our own. Much much harder.
Fortunately, I also believe in a loving Heavenly Father that can heal and mend our broken hearts, that hears and answers our heartfelt prayers and that will be there for my son, Pete, when I cannot. Whoever said once "Life is a long lesson in humility" was so right.