Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Letting Go

I remember when my girls were little...my every moment was consumed with them. Feeding them, bathing them, rocking them, reading to them, separating them when they fought, cleaning up after them--endless. I remember thinking...'When they are 6 and 8, life will be so much better! They will be independent. I can have time to myself!' I longed for some 'me' time back then--time to read, to take long baths, quiet dates with my husband.

And then I blinked.

I realize it's cliche'--ridiculously so, actually--but it's so true that it makes me shake my head. Where in the world did the time go? How did they grow up so quickly? I want my little girls again.

Last year was Savana's (my oldest) senior year. I engulfed myself in her life. I felt her every feeling, understood her every irritation. I counselled her through boyfriend troubles, laughed with her through her own self-made comedies, and cried with her during the tragic times. When she got into trouble at school, I fought for her--even to the point of putting friendships on the line. I became her shadow and I loved every minute of it.

But now...she's gone. In the beginning, when she first went to the university, she was homesick. She didn't really have a social group and so she continued to call home on a daily basis. She would text me, skype with me--I continued to know every detail of her life. But as time has gone by, she has adjusted. Her friends have become her social network...and that's the way it should be, right? I am no longer her 'right hand, go-to person.' That is Anna--her best friend since eighth grade.

I miss her--a gut-wrenching, agonizing pain in my chest. I long to hear her laughter, watch her dance across the floor. I miss her energy, her sense for style, her flair for living.

But--as happens with our children--she has spread her wings and flown on the wings of independence. And she has done it so well! She is beautiful, intelligent, talented--so many good things. I admire her: she exudes strengths that are, in fact, my weaknesses. She is bold and caring and sensitive and friendly and--well, I could go on but...I won't.

And here's the thing. She has done what I have raised her to do. She is making her own way. She is growing up, becoming a woman.  But what some how escaped me is...I never knew how badly I would want her to take me by the arm, let me continue in this journey with her. And that is impossible. I was a raging success. I raised an independent, capable young lady.

I never knew it would hurt so much.

Diamonds Everywhere

I read a study recently that said that greatest single indicator of a long life well-lived is deep social connections. Of course, there are...