I’m sure you’re all familiar with the 'Seven Year Itch' (the belief that after 7 years, the level of happiness in a marriage or longterm relationship begins to decline). Well, let me introduce you to the 'Seven Week Itch'. It’s probably coincidental, still, I’m going with it because, suddenly, the honeymoon phase of being a boarder’s parent is coming to an end, and I really miss Zac.
It’s not that I wasn’t missing him before. I guess it just hadn’t been this long. Perhaps there is a length of time during which dealing with longing is manageable. It would certainly make sense then, that the school grants the boys midterm long weekend each term. That was last weekend, and most of the boys were reunited with their families. Zac did not come home, but he did enjoy a weekend in Gauteng with my mom who met him there, and by all accounts, his time with his Yaya was a treat from start to finish.
Also, there has been nothing but good news coming from the ‘Berg. Good reports are coming from Zac’s teachers and house parents. He was even Boarder of the Month in his first month. Good reports have been coming from Zac too. He is loving class and life on campus, and he has been eagerly doing one test after the other in his bid to make concert choir status. He genuinely never sounds homesick, and doesn’t even call every day. In fact, I have been mentally preparing for the fact that when he comes home for the holidays, the young man we welcome back may be a far cry from the boy who left.
Then yesterday two significant things happened: I went grocery shopping, and Zac called.
Both of these things, in insolation, would be irrelevant, however, their collusion impacted me. Usually, I do grocery shopping with Zac - just him and me. He's very helpful and it's a very efficient process. This was not the first time I’ve gone without him since he left, but this grocery trip was particularly painful. Andel, who is juggling multiple crises at work, was on the phone all the time, and the kids, who needed to be caged in an additional trolley, were not being cooperative at all. I almost left my both trolleys in the shop to go home. And then Zac called - on a Saturday afternoon, while we were in the shop - frantically asking us about the conflict in the Ukraine, and a bombing that had taken place in Pietermaritzburg.
You see, no matter how many grown up things Zac is doing, or how well he’s adapting to this new level of independence, he is still a nine year old boy, and nine year old boys cannot process the injustice and terror and pain around us - heck, most days, I battle to process it. I love that Zac chose to call us, to find truth from a source he could trust, and be directed to Comfort and Peace that we share. Still, I really just wanted to grab him through the phone, put him on my lap, and hold him until he felt safe.
The seven weeks that have passed since we last saw Zac are starting to feel like a lifetime, and there are another four to go still. God be with him, and us.
