I Am The Only Person I Can Save

I am feeling vulnerable about my son tonight. In 24 hours I've gone from a peaceful acceptance of him and his choices to a tearful despair. I'm flip-flopping and struggling. I profess that I've accepted him and how he chooses to live, and for several months now I've felt calm about him. But tonight I'm bawling like a baby, and it's clear that I have more to grieve about this kid-man. I won't bore anyone with the details, but I love my son and I wish that he were healthy and happy. 

This Mary Oliver poem speaks to me about how I am only truly responsible for one person: me. It echoes the scripture that I must "work out my own salvation with fear and trembling," and that no one can do that for me. Just like no one can do it for my son. 

The Journey

 by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.