Friends and neighbors say, don’t worry, he’s on the cusp of leaving the nest. They say most boys his age are like that. (They are? You don’t remember his brothers being like that.) They say he’ll decide soon enough that he wants to get married, get a real job, and build a life. The truth is, some of your other kids have gone through their own stuff, and they did ultimately forge ahead. So why does it feel different this time? Maybe because he’s older than the others were, and not open about what’s in his heart. Or maybe because he seems so complacent that he doesn’t see a reason to take the next step.

You can’t tell him how to live his life. He’s an adult. But if only he wouldn’t be so much in his own bubble. If only you had some kind of grasp of what was going on in his head. On the other hand, he sounds fine when you talk to him. “Hi, Ima,” he cheerfully greets you each morning as he gets up when he pleases. And at least he has a job, even if it’s not one that requires much responsibility.

You don’t think you’re asking for much. Just an ambitious, driven son who feels motivated to go to minyan and, after a full day of work, heads to a shiur or chavrusa at night. After all, he’s not off the derech, baruch Hashem. He believes in Hashem. He loves Hashem. You’re just not sure he believes in the importance of davening to Hashem in the presence of ten men three times a day (or even once a day), or setting set times to learn His holy Torah.

Perhaps he’d rather watch a movie at night behind closed doors where he thinks no one can hear. Truthfully, you try not to hear. He could be listening to a shiur. Occasionally he’ll tell you he is listening to one. Maybe the big screen on the floor of his workout room is there for show. You don’t know, and honestly, you don’t want to know. What you do know is that when someone leaves yeshivah with no routine, it’s easy to fall into a rut.

You wonder: Is this failure to launch? That’s what it feels like — the fear young adults sometimes have of taking the next step in life. You recall how this began. A few years ago, after he decided that full-time learning was no longer viable, he thought he’d take a break from the grueling intensity of yeshivah. In the beginning, you agreed — move back home, take some time off, relax, look around, and see what you want to do. But when that time turned into six months, then a year, and then two years, you realized there was something bigger going on.

You try suggesting things here and there. Since he’s not coming to you to ask, you ask him: What about going to a career counselor? What about taking some courses at the local community college or doing an online course? Have you spoken to your rav/mentor/mashgiach lately? Everything is met with, “Don’t worry, Ima, I’ve got it under control.” You want to believe him. But you look around and wonder: What exactly does he have under control? All you see is your son getting up late, going out, coming back. Not much else. He doesn’t seem to be moving forward. And staying silent, saying nothing for months on end, is becoming increasingly more difficult.

Yet, that’s where you find yourself — keeping quiet, waiting, praying and hoping he’ll find his own way forward. Soon.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 934)