Be Still

My new mountain home was far from an empty nest. Even though Brian was now 20, and Dean 19, their baby brother was still a toddler. They did not make the mountain move and were almost five hours away from me. Surrounded by Frasier fir tree farms and the fragrance of sweet springtime, our place in the hollow was both relaxing and inspiring me to get outdoors that day.

The hours never mattered to me much. Samuel’s late nap allowed me to keep fulfilling my need to touch the dirt and a dig in my spring fever frenzy. Chris was deep into his overnight shift at the jail, and I was off the hook when it came to scheduled mealtimes. My only link to the outside and far away flat land was my little mobile flip phone with a very sketchy signal.

It rang! I was almost giggly shocked as I picked up my phone and said hello to Brian. “I cannot believe I am actually getting your call out here!”

“Mama, something’s wrong with Dean!” an out of breath Brian exclaimed. “I am walking home from work right this minute, because I don’t have a ride, and my friends are calling me about Dean.”

My pace halted. I stood as frozen as a statue so that my reception continued. I listened. Still, distant from my surroundings, and at full attention, I listened.

“Hold on, Mama. One of my friends is calling me back to tell me what is going on. Lemme take this call.”

As I continued my stance at full attention, I looked around at the peacefulness of a slanted hill. The grass was a lush and true Kelly green as I had ever seen. My home was all tucked into the side of that same hill, and my baby love, Samuel, continued to be content inside.

“Ok. Got some more information. Dean is at his house and he is okay, but my friends say he is really drunk. They have partied all afternoon and got scared when they first called me. It’s ok, Mama. It really is.”

To understand my Brian, one must endure his excitement and animation. So many times in his life he was my buddy for a rerun drama movie when everyone else avoided a chick-flick. He and I have always had a deep connection like no one else. Our eyes can say more to each other than words ever could. Only this time, I could not see my Brian’s eyes. Was my Deano really ok?

Brian continued to babble as he described everything from his day at work to his frustrating walk home, to the irresponsible crowd of guys that were all with Dean at the moment. Inside my mothering heart I cringed to listen to their hardships and the continuing poor choices they were making. Knowing when to ask a question, or just listen is so difficult for a mom to adult children. I was learning rapidly what not to say to my kids.

More at ease, I began to step around my flower beds in progress and admire my own hard work from that day. Without realizing I was just a bit more in tune with where I was and Brian’s talk had turned into more of another one of his lengthy calls where I am just filling a space in his day.

“Hold on again Mama. They are calling me again.”

There was a silence and halted my movement.

“Mama, they say Dean has mixed pot and beer. It’s not bad, but they think he has taken pills too and they don’t want him to fall asleep. No big deal, but I am still not there yet.”

Like a familiar dull ache I could feel my heart began to pick up speed. My stillness became a back and forth pace. My out of breath talk matched Brian’s on the other side of the line. “What to do, what to do,” was my thought as I tried to hear him. Spaces in the words were not only my phone, but his too.

Jumping in my car was not an option without disturbing Samuel. “Was it even necessary, or could I even make a difference?” I was so far away. I had never felt so far away from the babies that had once been inside of me.

With gaps in the calls and so many other calls coming in, Brian promised to call me right back. I called Chris at work and just knew he would give me a correct wisdom so that this unnerving crisis would be over. He was not available. Those law enforcement guys just do not have the luxury of being reachable by the families like other careers. I was on my own.

Brian connected to me again and filled me in on where he was in his foot journey to his brother. I told him I was going to call 911 and he insisted that this was not a new situation for Dean. As the truth of the substance experimenting came out I cringed and pictured my Deano as an innocent infant. How did we get here? My pacing picked up again and my phone had to be wiped from the sweat on my face and head.

“Dear God, please intervene here. Dean needs you. Brian needs you. I am too far away. You are the only One,” I interrupted Brian and he agreed. “This is first thing we do, pray.”

At that calming moment I sat down. Under the shade of a thick mountain fir, I sat, prayed, and recalled a dear friend in the vicinity of Dean’s home. Brian and I encouraged each other and both spoke with the friend. She was more than happy to go over and check on Dean.

While in wait ‘neath the shade of that tree, my mind wandered off to another day. Only the day before, while working in the same spot, a mourning dove had startled me flogging into a limb above. Recalling that, I looked above my head. The deep shade created a density that my sweaty eyes had to adapt and blink to focus. There she was. The beautiful foul from the day before was a mother. A mother! I was mesmerized at how so very close she and I were and that I had not even known. Not once did she flutter out and shew me from he nesting area. Through all my movements around that tree and all my loud conversations not once did she make a fuss to get rid of me. No. There she sat, as still as she could be. No sound, no squawk was heard. She only starred at me. She was so close I could see the white, blue, and black lines that circled her eye. Knowing her babes were at risk she held firm across the curve of her nest. It was the most powerful thing she could do at the moment. It was to be still. Not as a victim to invasion, not because she did not have the ability to do more, not because she was weak, but because she was strong. She watched and was ready to whatever she needed to do for her offspring, but in that moment she was still.

Without offending Dean, my friend called me back and let me hear his voice say, “I’m ok, Mama.” Feeding him black coffee and a harsh lecture, my friend assured me that she would keep me posted in the moments ahead.

The guilt of distance and self-doubting my child-rearing skills, I sat in relief under my tree. My tears were catching up with me. This was better but far from over. I talked to God out loud and alone. It was time to go check on Samuel. I asked God to help me through this mess. I looked up again at the dove. Just as clearly as He could, God told me, “I will be your Deano. I will hang in there with our funny Brian. I will be right here with you too. You are not a failure. You are strong. But for now, be still.”