I just thought I had more time…
All summer I felt my son pulling away. He worked more and spent more evenings away, keeping himself very busy. I mostly fought the urge to cling to his ankles every time he headed for the door, fighting the deep desire to scream ‘Love Me!’ every time we found ourselves within five feet of one another. It is interesting to watch our roles reverse so completely.
As mothers, we spend so much of those early years fighting to redefine ourselves. Looking for small moments of independence aside from the primary role of mother, only to find ourselves fighting to regain that role as our children pull away to become young adults.
I am healed enough to know that my son needed to pull away to prepare himself to leave home and his family for college. But I am emotional enough to know that I think it’s BS!
At times it feels like I went to bed one night with babies and woke up with young adults. On other days I am certain I am that old lady from Titanic aging seven dog years for every child.
I was not prepared for the mixture of emotions that would accompany the letting go stage of parenting. In a 24-hour period: I am excited for the adventures that lie ahead, mourning the loss of late-night snuggles, and waking up in a cold sweat wondering if he will know what to do if he has a flat tire. Do I know what to do if I get a flat tire?
Time is tricky; it moves steadily forward without respect for our desires or emotional expectations. We anticipate milestones and transitions, imagining these things so far away when life doesn’t wait and the days are full. Our children grow up and spread their wings. Which I have had to remind myself was always the goal, right?
As I navigate this transition with my family in tow, I am reminded that their independence speaks to our parenting success. While my role as caretaker and nose wiper may be nearing an end, I now get to watch as they become adults navigating success and missteps knowing that I played a role in all of it.
I’m learning the art of letting go. I’m learning that loving them means allowing them to explore the world with my support on their terms, even when my heart aches and I fight the urge to step in. I’m learning that the depth of a parent’s love is reflected in our ability to release, trust, and embrace change. I am learning that parenting is not static but an evolution – only if you are willing to take the ride.
So, here’s to the bittersweet symphony of parenthood — to the unexpected mixture of emotions, to the quiet strength it takes to stand back and watch them soar. I may have thought I would have more time, but the truth is, the time we have is now. And in that now, I choose to be present, to support, and to celebrate the remarkable young people my children are becoming, even as I hold onto cherished memories of my little boys, skin tanned by the sun, smelling like a mixture of sweat and Bay water littering my home and filling my heart.