Wind and Bone

We are launching kids now. They are gathering their things, and their wits, and making plans, and leaving. Just one now, but soon another, and then I guess it snowballs. I’m not naive – I realize they will likely ping-pong back and forth for a bit but essentially, they are being pulled by the irresistible magnet of independence.

I always thought I’d be ok with this – and I am – but I didn’t count on all of the questions I’d ask myself. Did I teach them what they need to know? Did their Dad? Will they be resilient? Will they blame me? Will they call? Will I call too much? Can they do and be what they need to do and be, even when it’s hard, without me there to help and hold? And the biggest question – what will they do with their faith?

I once heard a little story, where a young lady married very young and then was soon pregnant. Her mother, the soon-to-be grandmother, lamented, “Ahhhh, now you’re a mother forever!” and this resonates so strongly with me. Motherhood doesn’t end when the apron strings are cut. You still feel everything, long to fix and help and coach, but now instead of cruising down the freeway together, you are watching from the access road. I have asked myself if I was too invested in my sons – if I put too much of myself into their well-being, or was too controlling, or perhaps placed too much of myself on a shelf, now dusty and broken from neglect. I don’t want to be the parent who can’t let go – but I sometimes feel like I’ve lost the ability to give meaningful attention to other things. I’m not sure I know how to let them leave.

Jeremy reminds me that we need to believe in our kids – that they will fail but they will also succeed – and we need to give them opportunities to show this. That their Father loves them more and better than I do, and doesn’t see their lives through the lens of time. He is patient and loving even when life sucks, and the world is in chaos. He will walk with them. I believe this.

But I live in time, and I worry that there won’t be enough of it. That my influence clock is ticking faster and closer to midnight. Ultimately, though, none of this matters. They will take the leap with or without my stamp of readiness and I have to be content with that. So the questions linger… as they go, one by one, will I pick up those dusty and rusty pieces of myself, take a new exit, and see where the road goes? Can I be ok with knowing that my kids are taking in the views on their own journeys, and relish the moments they choose to share with me, knowing that there are many (and eventually most) they will share solely with others?

I know one thing…their Heavenly Father will be accessible all the time and forever. And when they need their Mom, as long as I am living and sane, I will be right there too.