Motherhood and Heartache
Dear Mothers,
I now find myself in the place regarding my children; as going, going, gone – And I weep because there is no way to fully prepare for this day. The tears simply pop from my eyes when I least expect it. I may be concentrating on something totally different and then out of the blue the thought arrives that my last child is moving out and I succumb to heart break all over again.
When we birthed these children we had no idea who they would turn out to be. When we disciplined the two year old or the fourteen year old it all seemed like it would go on eternally; that we would be always in the midst of turmoil. When we were trying to get them to do homework or chores, who had time to think that one day they would actually pack up and move out forever?
Yes, I used to say to them: One day you will grow up and leave me and then I will have nothing if I don’t increase my skills and make my way now.” And then I would leave for the conference, workshop, or prayer group. But I couldn’t have known then what I do now. That it really truly happens and no matter how well you’ve tried to prepare, it still breaks you open into the nakedness of a whole new life.
This morning I created a ritual to help me with the transition. I recently had a tooth pulled from the back of my mouth. It was dying and had to go and I admit that that letting go was also hard. The ‘hole’ creates an unbalanced feeling in my mouth and reminds me of the changes in my life at large. Anyway, I took my tooth and with prayers of intention around loss and change and the growth that comes from it; I buried the tooth under the tree that was planted in honor of my last birthing experience. You see our last child was born at home and we planted his placenta amid those roots.
It seems fitting that as he leaves I bury a symbol of a part of me that leaves too. No longer will I lay awake at night waiting to hear if he has arrived home. No longer will I get up to check whether all lights are out. I won’t be leaving dinner on the stove or calling to find out if he is truly planning to come home to eat. There probably won’t be a curious questioner wanting to know how my workshop went as I walk in the house. My spouse is usually too involved in his own life.
What I have come to realize recently is that the kids were my team, my co-workers in a sense. They found plenty of ways to challenge me, to impose deadlines, to teach about boundaries, and to keep me on my toes around who to rescue next (or not) and what strategy to use. A home with growing children is much like a small corporation with parents playing CFO and CEO; only it must slowly dissolve as each child leaves the nest. And then eventually it becomes the empty nest and we look around and wonder where the years have gone and how we got here.
Yes, surely there is resolve around this whole transition from active motherhood. But I’m not there yet. For now I simply let the tears fall where they may.
Connect