Mountain of the Dumped Son

Caleb at the Mohawk tipi with Chief Dave



Located on an island on a stunning lake surrounded by mountains



This is home for the next two weeks


We dumped Caleb off in the middle of the mountains a few days ago. That's exactly what it felt like to me. Dumping. We just dumped him off.

Yes, I knew I would cry, but I just didn't know how long I would cry like that. You know, uncontrollable crying. Well, I haven't cried today. Not yet, anyway.

I guess this is one of those things someone forgot to tell me about somewhere between having a baby boy and then 14 years later leaving him in the middle of the mountains with complete strangers. Someone forgot to tell me how hard it would be to walk away.

We drove and drove and drove to get Caleb to the point where we could dump him. We were all excited and filled with anticipation.

Let me clarify here. I didn't know at this point in time that we would be dumping him. I still thought we were arriving to register and check-in.

We pulled into the driveway that leads to the camp and drove for what seemed like miles deep into the forest until we finally found the parking lot. Oh, it's not really a parking lot. It's an area where there are no trees. But, I'm still excited at this point. This is big woods country! Amazing things happen here.

Boys walk in.
Men walk out.

Mothers walk in smiling.
Mothers walk out sobbing.

At least this mother did.

There just came this point in time where we knew we had to leave. He knew we had to leave. We hugged and kissed and said the "I love yous" and hugged and kissed again. Then I felt the tears come. I didn't want to embarrass him and I certainly didn't want to put him in an awkward position. I didn't know what else to do. So I just turned and walked away. I quickly turned back around and smiled through my tears and told him, "I'll be praying for you every day!" Then I just kept walking. I never looked back. I think it was the worst moment in my life.

And so I dumped my son. I just left him. I left him standing there all alone. For hours that image of him standing there haunted me. I just couldn't get it out of my head. I kept thinking I should have turned back, grabbed his hand, and said, "It's OK. Let's go get your stuff and go home." But I didn't. I just kept walking.

I know I'm not the first mother to experience the pain of separation. I just had no clue it would be so hard.

I know for certain Caleb is on an amazing adventure of a lifetime. He's having an absolute blast sailing and canoeing and fishing and shooting and hiking and flying from trees and sleeping in a tipi.

Me? I'll be OK. The Lord is gracious and kind.

Just ask the millions of mothers who have done the same thing and lived!