“Mom, I think I’ve met a girl I’d like to date.” This was what my son Ryyan called to tell me?
Ryyan was 28, a senior in college. He’d served in the Army, including a deployment to Iraq, before enrolling at Georgia Tech at age 23. He was about to graduate with a degree in computer science.
He hadn’t been on a single date his entire time in college. “Too much homework, Mom!” he said. I didn’t want him becoming one of those permanent bachelor computer programmers, but Ryyan needed to focus on his studies. I helped out by doing his laundry, cooking and freezing healthy meals for him and running errands whenever I made it over to Atlanta from the Sparta farmhouse where my husband, Mark, and I lived.
Ryyan and I made a good team. Why would he want to distract himself so close to the finish line?
“A girl, huh?” I said. “Where’d you meet her?”
“A dating app.”“You mean online? Where you meet strangers?”
“Mom, they post their bios,” Ryyan said. “She’s a Christian. An Auburn grad who works at CNN. We’re going on our first date this weekend.”
How could I size up this young lady if all I knew about her was what Ryyan had read on some app? “I look forward to hearing about it,” I said.
Actually, I hoped the date would be a dud. After graduation, Ryyan could turn his attention to finding someone to marry. Preferably at church. Where I could meet her and make sure he was using good judgment.
Ryyan was our middle boy. Growing up, he needed a little extra parental support. He couldn’t tie his shoes and got his sleeves mixed up putting on a jacket. He carried around a beloved pillow until the stuffing came out and I had to sneak it away at night to wash it.
Mark and I both served in the military. Then Mark returned to civilian life, while I was a career officer assigned to combat arms units on bases around the world. Ryyan was born in Germany. My job was demanding, and I felt guilty going off to work while Mark took care of the boys.
I was proud when our oldest, David, enlisted right out of high school. Then the September 11 attacks happened, and I became terrified. Reading the Bible and praying got me through David’s two deployments in Iraq.
David made it home safely. A few years later, Ryyan announced he intended to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Even worse, Ryyan would serve on a logistics team, delivering supplies to remote units all over Iraq.
I was on my knees every day begging God to keep Ryyan safe from roadside bombs. It felt as if Mark and I prayed our boy home.
I guess the silver lining was I learned early on how to let my boys go and become men. I had to trust God to keep them safe. That kept me from becoming one of those helicopter parents who do everything for their kids and stand guard over their lives. Nope, that was not my issue.
“How was the date?” I asked Ryyan the next time we talked, trying to sound unconcerned.
“Avery and I had a great time!” he said. Pictures of them at a restaurant appeared on my phone. He went on about how she was everything he’d hoped for and more. “She even loves the outdoors!” he said.
Not the answer I was hoping for. I wondered about this Avery. Ryyan was a catch, no doubt. Military veteran, soon-to-be computer science graduate, man of faith. What if she was just telling him what he wanted to hear? Would she take care of Ryyan the way I did? I doubted it.
Ryyan didn’t seem to doubt a thing.
“Guess what, Mom?” he said about four months after that first date. “I’m bringing Avery home this weekend to fish in the pond.”
After I had completed 12 years of service in the Army, Mark and I moved back to Georgia and lived on a farmstead two hours from Atlanta. I heard myself say to Ryyan, “That’s nice.”
That weekend, I watched as Ryyan’s car made its way up our gravel driveway. His brothers were still bachelors. Even though I’d prayed for them to find loving wives, this was the first time any of my sons had brought a girl home to meet us.
I didn’t rush outside as usual. From the kitchen, I watched Avery emerge from the car. I had to admit, she was even prettier than in Ryyan’s photos. I stepped out onto the front porch.
Ryyan introduced her, and I gave them both a quick hug. They went inside, and I returned to the kitchen to finish making dinner. I heard Ryyan introduce Avery to his dad. Good, I thought, she won’t bug me in the kitchen.“Mrs. Smith, can I help with anything?” Avery stood in the doorway. I was so startled, I almost dropped a pan of hot bread.
“No, I’ve got it,” I said.
“I could set the table,” she said. “Where are the plates?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said in my only-one-woman-needed-in-the-kitchen voice.
Thankfully, Ryyan walked in and took Avery to see the pond.
At dinner, Avery sat with everyone else while I bustled in and out bringing food to the table. The men in my family were so engrossed in talking to her that no one offered to help.
We sat down and said grace. Then they all picked up the conversation without even complimenting me on the meal, the way they usually did.
Afterward, everyone trooped off to the family room to watch a football game. I heard the guys laughing at Avery’s commentary. She even liked football! Later I looked out the window and saw Ryyan and Avery sitting on the porch, their faces lit by the peach-colored light of sunset. Ryyan’s arm was around Avery’s shoulders. He gazed into her eyes like a man in love. Oh boy, I thought.
Avery became a regular guest at our house. Once, I came into the family room during a football game to deliver a plate of hot wings, and everyone was high-fiving Avery. This woman was becoming the new queen bee of my house!
Now when Ryyan called, it was all about what he and Avery were up to. No more discussing finances or practicing for job interviews with me. I began to dread one phone call in particular. At last, the call came. “Mom, I’m going to ask Avery to marry me.”
“Don’t you think it’s too soon?” I asked. “You haven’t dated any other girls. How do you know that she’s the right one?”
Ryyan was silent a moment. “Mom, Avery and I have dated for more than a year. I have a good job now, and I want to settle down. I don’t want to date anyone else. I’ve prayed about this. I love Avery. I want her to be my wife.”
“Well, congratulations,” I said.“Thanks,” said Ryyan and hung up.
I had been complaining about Avery for quite some time to a group of women prayer partners at church. Now I unloaded about her.
To my surprise, my friends cut me off. “Jan, you need to back off,” they said. “Avery sounds like a wonderful young woman. Ryyan is old enough to make his own decisions. You’re going to have to let him go at some point.”
“I already did that!” I protested. “Didn’t I let him go to Iraq? College? He has his own apartment. Letting go is not my issue!”
Couldn’t my friends see the problem was Avery, not me? She had marched into Ryyan’s life and…what?
I cast around for some major fault. The more I searched, the more my anger changed into a different feeling. A feeling I sometimes got that God was standing off to one side, arms folded, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to realize I was being a fool.
Message received. I stayed out of the way while Avery and Ryyan planned their wedding.
A week before the wedding, Ryyan surprised me with a visit to the house. I hadn’t even seen him drive up. He asked me to come outside for a talk on the porch.
“Mom,” he said, “I have to get something off my chest. Avery doesn’t think you like her. Me neither. I don’t know what you have against her, but I want you to know how much it hurts me that the two women I love most in the world don’t get along. I want to resolve this.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, then stopped. I pictured Ryyan as a baby in Germany, how guilty I’d felt leaving him behind, for days sometimes. I thought of all the nights I’d gone to bed terrified that I’d wake up to learn he had been killed in Iraq.
All my life, I had been giving him up. Now I was about to give him up to Avery—for good.
Letting a child go is one of the hardest parts of being a parent. I had to do it anyway.
“I am so sorry,” I said with tears in my eyes. “I’m proud of you, Ryyan. Avery is everything I’d prayed you’d find in a wife. I just didn’t want to admit that because I didn’t want to let you go. Will you tell her that for me?”
“You can tell her yourself, Mom,” Ryyan said. “She’s here with me.” Avery stood at the door. She must have come through the back. I enveloped them both in a big hug. I could feel God enveloping all of us in even bigger arms.
I admit, I would have planned the wedding differently. They held it at a wedding venue, not a church. But you know what? It was a beautiful Christian wedding, and everyone had a wonderful time. I got to dance with Ryyan at the reception.
I call Avery my daughter now. She has livened up our family, that’s for sure. I discovered she’s a great cook and we’ve traded favorite recipes.
No grandbaby yet, but I’m dropping hints. On second thought, maybe I better let that one go too.…
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