Letting go is difficult for me, yet an earlier transition will benefit us all

After writing a weekly column for over six years, I needed the break I’ve just completed. I’ve spent the past few months working to renew my spirit and consider what’s essential. I didn’t realize how desperately I needed to let go of some things. While my recent sabbatical is technically over, I’m continuing to work on dissecting my life and determining what’s most important.

Letting go of certain parts of my identity is scary, yet freeing. That includes books I’ll never open again, as well as old VHS tapes, clothes, and furniture. But I’m also looking at bigger things I need to let go. The biggest of those are my sons, who both have severe hemophilia.

Julian, my 27-year-old, has lived independently for many years. I vividly remember the day he moved out to complete his college education. I often wanted to swoop in like a mama bird to protect his nest, but it wasn’t my place. My heart broke for him many times as he struggled to work three jobs and complete his degree.

I eventually had to let go, and when I did, I saw the evolution of his strength and determination. Even with a severe medical condition, he made choices — not always the best ones, according to his mom! But he maneuvered his way on his own.

Recommended Reading

December 1, 2021 Columns by Cazandra Campos-MacDonald

Helping With an Infusion Reassures Me of My Son’s Independence

It’s Caeleb’s turn

My youngest, Caeleb, is 17 years old and has an inhibitor atop his hemophilia, making his medical journey fraught with complications. Caeleb does well with his treatment, yet the aftermath of the years of bleeding into his joints continues to cause problems. He’s finding ways to manage pain, and physical therapy brings him relief.

While he’s still at home as a high school senior, I realize I must begin letting go. His decisions regarding school and what he needs to accomplish are not usually in his best interest, but he’s becoming a man who must figure out himself what he wants.

This season, I see how important and painful it’ll be for me to let go of Caeleb. It’s like the leaves of the trees yet to fall, which cling on for a bit longer before the season changes. I feel like a tree that has nurtured the leaves, allowed shade for the weary who are mowing grass, given birds a place to nest, and offered little boys branches to climb. I’ve given of myself in ways I never dreamed possible. And I’m preparing for the leaves to fall, when my Caeleb will turn the page to a new chapter of his life.

It’s not time to let go yet. And what I know for sure is that I’ll always be a mom to my boys. I want them to fly off into the world, knowing that as long as I have breath in my lungs, they’ll find a home in me, no matter what.

Note: Hemophilia News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Hemophilia News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to hemophilia.