Limbo

lim⋅bo2  /ˈlɪmboʊ/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [lim-boh] Show IPA
–noun, plural -bos. a dance from the West Indies, originally for men only, in which the dancer bends backward from the knees and moves with a shuffling step under a horizontal bar that is lowered after each successive pass. Origin:
1955–60; cf. Jamaican E limba to bend, easily bending; see limber

So, for most of my life I have associated the word limbo with the festive dance shown above. And being the adventuresome sort I myself have attempted to limbo dance on several occasions - not well, may I add. Apparently I am missing the bendy-gene that allows my back to contort into a U-shape, so I always fall flat on my tuchus. (Note - never wear a skirt or dress while attempting to limbo-dance!) The limbo has always conjured up visions for me of fun music and people clapping and having a good time.

However, I am learning a new definition of limbo and it isn't fun or lively, yet I am still flat on my backside. Figuratively speaking, of course. This week has been perhaps the hardest and weirdest and proudest and saddest of my life. As you know, we took Cameron to the Naval Academy for his induction this week. The actual date was Wednesday, July 1st, which will now be a date that will live in infamy in my mind forever. It was a hot and sticky day in Annapolis, and our morning got started extremely early since Cameron had to be at USNA at 7:30 a.m. for processing.


Once he crossed through the line of naval officers awaiting all the new plebes, we didn't see him again for 4 hours. And that 4 hours seemed to last an eternity. And then all we had was a brief glimpse of him jumping off a bus, grabbing his bag and running up the steps to his new home. That was it - no conversation, no time to linger - just a glimpse of his hot, tired, frustrated face with a detailer hot on his heels barking out orders. I wanted to just jump right out there in front of God and everybody and grab my boy and run for TN as fast as humanly possible!


The day wore on and at 6:00 p.m. the oath of office ceremony began. And it was very moving and emotional and prestigious - all the pomp and circumstance you would imagine the armed forces could provide. There was a flyover, and marching and the band played patriotic songs. The superintendent of the academy, Vice Admiral Fowler, delivered his address. The detailers who are charged with changing the plebes from normal kids into future naval officers took their oath. And then it was time for Cameron and the other 1,229 plebes to raise their right hands and swear to uphold the Constitution and defend our country. They did so with a very loud and rousing "I DO!". And that is when my definition of limbo changed forever - that exact moment when I knew there would be no turning back, that my son would no longer be that boy I love so much. He is now a young man on a mission, and the Navy will ensure that he is equipped to lead his men in times of war and peace. His commitment is at least a 9-year obligation - 4 years at the academy and then 5 in actual naval service on a ship.


So, limbo for me now is defined as "an intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place." Because since we drove away from the academy Wednesday evening, leaving our son to an unknown lifestyle with complete strangers, I have been hovering in some sort of odd state of nothingness. Oh, we are still eating and sleeping and doing chores, all the "normal" stuff of life. But none of it seems real to me, and there isn't an excitement in our days. Well-meaning friends and family keep telling us that "we should be so proud" and that "this time will fly by" and "now you can do all sorts of fun couple things together". And perhaps all those things are true, but they just don't feel true to us right now. Because we hurt, down deep in our hearts. It is as though Cameron is just away at camp or something, and we keep waiting to hear him come through the back door at any moment. Even the dogs seem puzzled and they keep whining and going to the door as though they are looking for him, too.

Now, please don't misunderstand me - we are VERY proud of Cameron and his decision to attend USNA. It is an extreme homor for him to have been accepted (only 1,200 out of 15,300 applicants) and he is excited to be embarking on this new journey. Once football starts he will really get excited, because then he will get to combine his two loves of playing football and learning how to be a naval officer. These next four years will be challenging for him, but he is up to the task and we know that he will succeed at whatever he attempts. Cameron is "dancing under the pole" while we are hovering around here, looking forward to the times when we can see him again. In the meantime, I know that God will watch over Cameron and He will also watch over us - giving us peace as only He can and helping us to find our way back to the land of the living, not the land of limbo.

Lana