Are You Willing To Make the Ultimate Sacrifice for Your Children?

The true art of letting go. A father’s journey.

One of the hardest jobs in this world is being a parent. Once it begins, you are on duty for the remainder of your life. There is no “clocking out” with this role!

In many ways, embarking on this journey of parenthood means your primary duty is no longer to yourself. Instead, it is willingly given to another.

Considering this, it is safe to say that most people do not contemplate such a life-changing journey without a great deal of nervous energy. Secretly wondering if we are “up to the job”, and have what it takes to raise another human being in such a confusing and complicated planet.

However, when you are finally able to hold your precious child in your arms for the first time, the fear and apprehension dissipate and are replaced by a feeling of profound love, pride, and devotion.

You are hit with an overwhelming flood of emotions as you realize that this is your new purpose in life. To do anything to protect, love, and nurture this tiny creature. Promising yourself that you will always be there for them, no matter what. Protecting them from whatever cruelties life may decide to throw their way.

That was me many years ago. A young father holding onto his baby and whispering a solemn vow into his ears.

I will always protect you.

True to my word, I did everything I possibly could to honor that oath. Always standing in my son, Casey’s corner to help him navigate the complexities of growing up.

However, by the time he hit his teens, things started to change. The transformation began when I first found out that Casey was being mercilessly bullied at school. I went into full-blown protector mode and took on the school and anyone else who had a part in the disgusting behavior.

I tried to fix it.

Soon afterward, Casey ended up in the hospital after undergoing a complete breakdown. Once again, Dad came to the rescue and ensured the best therapists, psychiatrists, and programs were lined up to meet his needs.

I tried to fix it.

What followed were years of treatment at a string of residential institutions. Each new psychiatrist giving him a brand new diagnosis and concoction of medication. Nothing seemed to work and we began to lose our way in the institutional haze.

Casey continued to deteriorate and the child I knew gradually disappeared.

Sitting upon his white steed, Dad once again galloped to the rescue. I let the powers that be know the error of their ways and demanded new treatment. I began to look globally for some type of program and solution. Pouring through reams of information in order to find the perfect match. It was my vow to protect him after all.

Once again, I tried to fix things.

By the time we hit the young adult years, not much had really changed. Casey had attempted suicide numerous times and each day was saturated with a pattern of self-abuse and self-harm.

In many ways, he had become a living ghost.

Haunting and surreal.

For years I worked at my job all day long, and then spent the night with him at the hospital. It was an incredibly exhausting time that wreaked havoc on my body and soul.

Through it all, I honored my initial vow to Casey. Recalling my first words to him so many years ago.

I will always protect you.

And true to my word, I was always there.

Until I wasn’t.

There comes a time in life when we realize that what we are doing is simply not working. That despite our best intentions, things have only gone from bad to worse.

That is the exact moment that we need to make a change.

Casey was a young adult now. He had lived most of his life traveling from one institution to the next. He would be released for a while, only to quickly return. And I was always there to pick up the pieces. Continually trying to fix everything.

It was at this moment of epiphany that I did the most difficult thing a parent can do.

I let him go.

While this new strategy was not an overnight success, he did improve. Quite rapidly actually. He began to learn how to cope with his disability and illness on his own. Building critical life skills such as self-awareness and resiliency in the process.

I am proud to say that Casey has since gone on to obtain a University degree and now holds down a job in his profession of choice. He also has a young family and has finally begun to enjoy life.

I live on the other side of the country from Casey now. I rarely see him, and perhaps that is a good thing. He is able to solve problems on his own, and no longer requires me to pick up the pieces.

The fixer has been retired.

His watch is over.

It was a long journey, but I gradually came to the realization that sometimes true love means sacrifice and needing to let go.

That is ok. I can still stand tall and look at myself in the mirror with the realization that I did honor my vow in the end.

I did always protect you.

Only this time, it was from myself.