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In the middle of the night, maybe one or two o’clock, Gaelen made his break. He had been planning his escape for weeks now, and had his clothes, food, and other gear packed and hidden in the barn. He sneaked out of the house, grabbed his things, jumped on his 10-speed bike, and off he went.
He rode several hours from his rural home in the Upper Midwest, heading south. Thanks to his training for football, wrestling, and track, he knew he could keep going for a long time. There was no hurry anyway. And his plans were not fully formulated. First he’d go to the Southwest, then up the California coast, and maybe back towards home sometime. For now, Gaelen knew only that he had to get away.
Westward Bound. The first days were tough. The fifteen-year-old was mostly scared, questioning whether he was doing the right thing and wondering about the consequences. His bike was stolen. Walking and hitch-hiking, he ended up in West Lafayette, Indiana, at a homeless shelter. His beard had grown out by then, so they believed him when he said he was eighteen.
But Gaelen’s fear lifted, replaced by a growing peace. It felt good to be on his own. It felt good to be free from rules like not dating until he was sixteen and not going out with his friends whenever he wanted.
At home, every time his parents said no to his requests, a shouting match would follow.
Sometimes Gaelen got his way; other times his parents thought the issue too important to budge on. “They don’t understand me,” he thought. Life at home seemed like hell, and he saw no hope for improvement.
So the shelter was a pleasant change. Gaelen could get up when he wanted to, eat when he wanted to. He liked keeping his own schedule and not having to ask permission.
Home Again. Almost three weeks after running away, Gaelen made a phone call to a friend in Michigan. The worried friend alerted the police, who traced the call to north-central Indiana and checked all the homeless shelters in that part of the state until they found him.
Gaelen was put in the holding cell of the jail until his parents could come to get him. “I was disappointed,” he says, looking back on it. “I didn’t want to be found. I was peaceful and wasn’t ready to return to the old situation.
“When my parents arrived, there were lots of hugs. They said they loved me and were grateful I was alive and unhurt. My dad told me that he had been saying a rosary every morning for me at 4:00 before going to work.”
Later, Gaelen explained why he had run away. His parents only half understood, he thought. “My father understood how I would feel the need to just move on, not caring or worrying about how it would all turn out. My mother picked up on the frustration. But neither one got the whole picture.”
Life at home improved somewhat over the next two years, but was still difficult. Gaelen grew resigned to the fact that his relationship with his parents was as good as it was going to get.
God Intervenes. Then Gaelen was invited to a Kairos retreat, which is patterned after the Cursillo weekend but aims at helping teens to deepen their relationship with God. “I didn’t go with much expectation. They needed forty kids, so I said I would go.”
At the time, says Gaelen, “I knew God existed and I prayed to him some. Like, if a deer darted out in front of the car when I was driving, and I missed him, I thanked God. Then I would look at my St. Christopher medal and thank him, and ask him to protect other drivers. My relationship with the Lord was somewhere between a personal one and a mere knowledge of his existence.”
The four-day retreat turned out to be much more than Gaelen expected. “It was powerful. Sometime in the middle, God broke in, and everyone broke down. All of our barriers and masks were gone, and we let everyone see us as we really are. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced.”
The retreat made Gaelen more aware of Jesus’ presence with him, more conscious of his identity as a follower of Christ. “Now, the way I relate to other people flows more out of my first identity as a Christian, rather than from trying to fulfill what others expect of me. People have remarked on how my character has changed.”
Life at home changed, too, for the retreat brought about a major shift in Gaelen’s way of relating to his parents. Suddenly, his eyes were opened to the fact that he was the one who needed changing. “I saw that I had been approaching everything from a selfish point of view. I wanted my way and wasn’t willing to look at any other viewpoint.”
Love Changes Everything. With the sudden insight came a new appreciation for his parents. It hit Gaelen so strongly that he shared it with the whole group at the close of the retreat.
“I told them how my father sacrificed every day for my mother. Everything—and more—that you hear in wedding vows, he lived to the fullest. He was with her through good times and bad. He always took the extra step to make her happy. I saw what a strong, caring, compassionate man my dad was, and that his actions were the truest form of love. Every day my dad died for my mom in a demonstration of love, as she did for him. Recognizing that was like an epiphany for me. I aspired to be like him.
“I told the group about my mom, too—how she was always sacrificing for me, wanting everything perfect for me, whether it was clothes, shoes, athletic equipment, or whatever.”
Reflecting on it now, Gaelen observes that “everything fell into place when I saw the way my dad loved my mother, and how my mom loved my dad and myself. It isn’t that they always have to stop and think about what is the Christian way to relate. But because of their commitment to God and their Catholic faith, they naturally do what is right and human.
“What my response should be became clear as I looked at them. I know now that I have to face my problems, not run away from them like I tried to do when I was fifteen. My mother, in her battle with depression, always told me that she needed to fight it, overcome it, not give up. I need that attitude, too.”
The retreat opened a door, says Gaelen. “The Lord helped me to know that the fight wasn’t with my parents, it was with my being open to them. He has helped me with that. If I disagree now with what they say, instead of immediately getting angry and arguing and rejecting it, I mull it over. If I still disagree, I will go back for a second round. But since I made the decision to approach everything with an open mind, even if at first it seems ridiculous, our conversations have become easier and our arguing less frequent.”
But sometimes, Gaelen confides with a smile, the results are disconcerting. “In fact, I can’t believe this, but recently there have been times when I catch myself saying to someone the exact thing I know my parents would have said to them. It’s scary!”
Gaelen Callahan is majoring in physical therapy at Grand Valley State University, in Allendale, Michigan.