Dear Nathan




	-------------------------------------------------------- WRITE 2 THE HEART Stories that are aimed "Write 2 The Heart" March 14, 2001 Volume 1, Issue 9 Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com -------------------------------------------------------- By subscription only! Welcome to your next issue of "WRITE 2 THE HEART" ----------------------------------------------------- SPONSORSHIP NOTICE ----------------------------------------------------- For a FREE personalized health analysis profile, visit Teraforma Health, Inc. http://teraformahealth.com/tfh/56094.html Your personal profile results will be shown immediately along with appropriate nutritional recommendations. While there, check out our line of supplements. ----------------------------------------------------- This ezine may be freely forwarded to as many people as you wish, please send the whole issue. ----------------------------------------------------- Today's story by Rose is one that touched my heart in a special way. Having lived through the letting-go process I understand the depth of emotion she expresses here. I am so glad tear stains don't show up on computer monitors. ----------------------------------------------------- Dear Nathan By: Rose Wade-Schambach ----------------------------------------------------- Dear Nathan, It's happening again. I know it because I recognize those return addresses on the envelopes that keep coming addressed to you. They bear the names of colleges and universities that you have applied to. And I know that it is just a short time until you will be leaving the nest despite my misgivings and despite my hanging on for dear life. And so before we soon get caught up in buying sheets and towels and hundreds of other things for your new dorm room, I want to tell you a few things in case I never get the opportunity before you leave. To me the most difficult part of parenting isn't the trivial problems that come with a large family. That part you learn to endure. The most difficult part of parenting is letting go. I can tell you this, no matter how many children there are in this family, when one of you leaves us, you leave a space at the supper table and an ache in my heart. This feels like the pain I felt when I went with you on the first day of school, or when I took you to get your driver's license. Only this hurts a lot worse. The truth is: I'm not ready. I'm not ready to wake up in the morning and not see your crooked smile while you eat Corn Pops. I'm not ready every day after school to not hear about your latest crush or the inevitable heartbreak that follows. I'm not ready to miss you so badly that I'm tempted to have everything bronzed that you ever touched. It's not like I haven't been through this before. I have already survived sending your two older sisters off to college. And I am told that with all those brothers and sisters coming after you that I should be relieved that someone else would have the responsibility of feeding your bottomless pit. But I know that even though I know the routine, this time it will be different. Your aunt and uncle who have already raised two boys tell me that when I cut the apron strings with you, you probably will not be looking back. That means that instead of running up the national debt calling home like your sisters did, discussing every cute guy in their Lit. Class, you will rarely ever call home at all. Not even after I leave terse messages on your answer machine. And you probably won't be spending all your time in the campus library feverishly studying either. What you will be up to I would rather not think about. (Only please hang on to the morals and values that I have taught you all your life.) Some things will be as I remember. Like your sisters, you will bring home a huge duffel bag, stuffed like the result of a malfunction at the sausage factory containing at least ten loads of laundry. Only yours will smell worse than a locker room in Phys. Ed. Class in June. Of course you will assume that I will wash them, while you run off to visit old high school chums. I won't and then you will promptly stuff the entire contents of the bag in the washer and immediately break the belt thereby costing me a fortune in repair bills. I know you. You will bring home several buddies from college who live too far from home and would love a home-cooked meal. They will all resemble linebackers and will eat like they are starved refugees from Romania. And about the time that I begin to feel put upon, they will hug me in their great big teddy bear hugs and call me Mom and I will invite them back again. But worse of all, things will never go back the way they were. For one thing, your room will be taken over by the next in rank here. But even more than that, each time you come back home, you will have severed yourself a little more from us. Your shoulders in these next four years will grow wider, your complexion clearer and your stride will gain a confidence that only being on your own can bring. You are leaving us in the final days of adolescence and you will be returning only briefly as a man. It's possible that on one of your trips home you will be bringing your future bride for us to meet. And I will be so very proud of you. Always. (But I will also miss my little boy.) I love you. Mom Rose Wade-Schambach schwadeton @ yahoo.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Rose Wade-Schambach is enjoying her new life married to her best friend John with their twelve kids. The biggest challenge they face is having enough hot water to take a shower on Sunday mornings. ------------------------------------------------------------ ------------------------------------------------------------ Give God A Call By: Pat Bode ------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------- Lord there's someone out there hurting deep inside, They're lost, confused and looking for a place to hide. Do you know someone who feels like that I do; I know just where they are at. No one was there to help them along, No one reached out and said, "Here take my arm". All they ever wanted was love and care, Someone to tell them thanks for being there. The Lord Jesus is here reaching out to you, He knows you're hurting and feeling blue. Once you know him, you'll leave your worries behind. For Jesus is here for you all the time. He's patting you on the shoulder and saying, "Let me in", It's up to you to let the Comforter begin. The Holy Spirit is within us all, All we have to do is give God a call. Get down on your knees and thank Him too, For He just came and made you brand new. You asked for forgiveness of your sins, Now your at peace once again. Take care now and never let go, For your walk with the Lord is starting to show. Feel free and at peace knowing Jesus is there, And put God first in your daily prayer. This message from God is sent to you, In the name of Jesus I pray this for you too. Pat Bode pbode @ telepak.net --------------------------------------------------------- Pat Bode is featured on the Writer Profile page of our web site. You can learn more about Pat by visiting our web site at: http.//www.write2theheart.com ----------------------------------------------------------- Do you have a story you would like to share with our readers? Please send it in the body of an email, attachments will not be opened. Mail to : moderator@write2theheart.com ------------------------------------------------------------ From Our Readers ----------------------------------------------------------- This is so good, Cheryl! Thanks for printing Tammy's story. I have FOUR grandsons and was lamenting the "girl" who has not materialized, as yet! However, I am glad my girls are raising Godly sons to populate this "evil empire"! (Of course, this country is better for having a Bush to lead it now.) Nancee ---------------------------------------------------------- Thanks to everyone who wrote expressing sympathy over Jeremy's fractured wrist. He is doing very well, I think he is enjoying not being able to do dishes. He can honestly say he has a doctor's excuse to keep him from doing chores. Only problem has been the pain medication makes him sleep all the time. What am I saying? Ahh, peace and quite. God Bless, Cheryl ----------------------------------------------------------- CLASSIFIED ADS ----------------------------------------------------------- The Story Lady is a newsletter sent out five days a week featuring all genres of writing. To subscribe, send a blank email to story.lady-subscribe@listbot.com ------------------------------------------------------------ Visit TeraForma Health, Inc. http://teraformahealth.com/tfh/56094.html for a FREE personalized body typing. Discover which foods and exercise programs are right for your body type. ----------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 2001 Write 2 The Heart ------------------------------------------------------------ All subscriptions sent to your email free of charge.