the flip side

I didn't realize (until after I was in bed last night and was too tired to get up and do anything about it) that my last two posts were full of goodbyes and a lumpy throat. I really feel like I need to explain myself.

In the first place, I am not overly depressed by my sons' growing up and leaving. It only takes a moment to read a poem, think back to all the years you've parented, realize how quickly they've flown, have a lump form in your throat, swallow the lump, and there, it's over.

And it only takes a moment to walk down the road with your son, look up at him, notice he now towers over your head, he's maturing, have a lump form in your throat, swallow the lump, and there, that's over. You move on and laugh and plan dinner, and argue about who won the game we all played the night before....I promise, I am not sitting here blubbering all the time.

As a matter of fact, there is a flip side to your sons growing up and moving on. And, just between you and me, I do enjoy that side.

The first thing I noticed when our two oldest moved out was the quiet. No one came home in the middle of the night, flipping lights on, making a late night snack, watching TV....when we fell asleep we actually stayed asleep.

The grocery bill isn't what it used to be and the house stays clean a bit longer than before.

One of the more important things we've noticed is that we've had more time to spend with our other two sons. We're not as "spread out" and tired as we used to be-there's "more" of us to give to fewer of them.

After the initial shock and sadness of having a shrinking family, I also realized that in some ways I have less weight on my shoulders, especially now that our two oldest have married. I still sometimes worry about them, and I'll always pray for them, but now, more than ever, I look at God and say, "Well, those kids are your problem now." I've released them to Him and am learning to trust Him with their lives. They truly are no longer my responsibility and I must admit, there is some relief in that. (Is that weary old age rearing it's ugly head?)

The best part of all of it is that those two oldest sons, and their wives, are becoming our friends. We get together for a meal, or an evening together and we laugh, play games, tease each other...we talk about house projects or trips we'd like to take together...the stress of parenting them is over and new relationships are forming.

Ever since I was a young teenage girl I think my favorite word has been bittersweet; life often is bittersweet, isn't it? I just need to be careful which side of the word I live on, that's all. I could sit here and feed the lump in my throat and let it grow, or I can look at who my sons have become and be thankful.

I just felt like I need to clarify that, especially after my last two posts...

Bittersweet

The last few years have been bittersweet for me. Three of our sons have graduated from our tiny school, two have married, and one of those "marrieds" has just become a daddy. As our sons have moved on, I've moved over. There's no stopping their progress nor the sudden speed with which their lives are changing. If I didn't move over, didn't make room for the changes taking place, didn't let go...if I would've clung to them in my need, I would've been trampled. They would've resented me and my clinging.
(Why is it so painful to let go as a mother, but so easy for a child to move on? Why doesn't it hurt them to grow up and leave the nest? )
Instead, I've learned, step by step, day by day, sometimes a minute at a time, to release them. To surrender them to the One who owns them anyway. I knew this day was coming the minute each of them left my body. There was a sorrow there even then. A tiny seed waiting for their firsts...their first meal that didn't come from the region of my chest; the first time they crawled away; their first steps toward something new. Each first watered the seed and the sorrow grew roots. But, surprisingly, that plant, the one I call Sorrow, is actually beautiful. Beauty with thorns. I love, love, love watching my sons from a distance. Watching as they learn how to become husbands, work on a house, figure out how to parent. I love watching them as they become men who love the Lord, and are striving to become what He wants them to be. That's the miracle of my life!
As they've taken their firsts and moved on, I've struggled...and wondered about my life. What now? Who and what am I if not a mother? What's my next step and where will it take me? I've thought, well, I'm taking up oxygen and space on this planet and I'm certainly not needed anymore.... (at least not for long; only 9 years left with Barrett....)
But then Sunday night the Lord handed me a gift. A hug. A new reason to stick around for awhile. My second son celebrated his first wedding anniversary Sunday night and we were allowed the incredible privelege of babysitting our new granddaughter. It was such a sweet few hours. I was able to hold and rock and cuddle that tiny person. We dozed together on the couch, our tummies pressed together, breathing almost in sync. She smelled amazing. Each tiny fingernail a miracle. I looked at her kissable little mouth, her large, beautiful eyes and felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Another small person to enjoy, to love, and then release. Another little person to pray for. I'm so thankful for this gift and I'm so looking forward to sharing oxygen and space on the planet with her, for however long the Lord gives me. I don't know if she'll ever need me, but it's a sweet gift just to be able to see her and watch her grow. I'm looking forward to her firsts and seeing who she'll become and what the Lord has planned for her. I've moved over and now I'm finding deep joy just watching from the sidelines.

Mother-in-Law Part Deux

A few weeks ago I wrote a post about Mother-in-Laws. Specifically, I wanted to know how on earth to be one.
I have a new friend who gave me the best advice yet:

Wear beige and shut-up.

If they're old enough to marry, it's their problem.

(Good advice for simply parenting adult children. Or should I say Un-parenting?)

More Thoughts on Our Emptying Nest

Boxes are coming in, and items are disappearing off shelves and out of closets. One of our sons took his curtain and rod down this morning and those are gone. The room is starting to look "naked".
Junk is being sorted and pitched or saved or stored.
I can't stop crying. I'm the only mom I know who is losing 2 kids at once.
Sometimes our conversations are stilted or awkward-that's a new experience for us.
I hear things about our sons' lives from virtual strangers now. People that didn't change their diapers or teach them to read tell me what my sons did or where they went, who they were with or what's been going on in their lives. I feel like I've become the stranger. I'm trusting this is just a time of transition for the family....
We went to 4 high school graduation celebrations last weekend and I had the opportunity to talk to several people who have had kids leave the nest. Not one of them could look me in the eye and tell me they have stopped "hurting". The best they could promise me is that, "You get used to it."
I wish I were strong, mature, and brave, but I'm not. I hurt. I want to have a party for them and tell them I'm proud of them. That they are still my best friends and I love them and am so excited for them as they begin this new phase in life.
I want to tell them not to be afraid of my tears. They're just tears after all. They won't kill any of us. Women cry.
It seems like we should have a "Right of Passage" ceremony. Or? What on earth do modern societies do to mark Manhood?

Yesterday James, our second born son, and I were talking about this time of transition. I told him how much it hurts to see them leave and asked if he thought that meant I'd turned our family into an idol. (This is the second time we've had this conversation. I'm nothing if not a slow learner.)
Anyway-he said he thought there'd be anger at their leaving if they were idols. There wouldn't be sorrow. So then I asked him what am I if not their mother, and how on earth do I deal with all my emotions?
He said the following: (paraphrased because I can't remember what he said word for word.)
"Mom, we all have 2 callings. A primary calling and a secondary calling. Our primary calling is to glorify God and enjoy Him. Our secondary calling is what we "do"."

I have a feeling all my tears are not glorifying God, nor do they say, "Hey Lord, I enjoy You." So, yesterday that became my prayer. That I would enjoy Him and glorify Him through this time in our lives. Then this morning I read a great verse in Ecclesiastes. (Ecc. 5:20)
...For he will not dwell unduly on the days of his life, because God keeps him busy with the joy of his heart.
The notes in my bible say this about that verse:
When a person recognizes the goodness of God, he rejoices and does not dwell unduly on the troubles detailed in the previous context.

So, I've been doubly rebuked/challenged. Once by my son and once by my Father.
I would appreciate your prayers if you've read this far. I do need to focus on enjoying the Lord, glorifying Him and recognizing His goodness. The pity party has to go.

One good thing that's come from our sons moving out-I think I'm going to get a lot of blogging miles out of it.

The Emptying Nest

By "sheer coincidence", (which I don't believe in) our 2 oldest sons have decided to move out. They are not going to be sharing an apartment together. They both "just" found separate places to live at the same time. Places that will save drive time, gas, and wear and tear on their cars.

I know they are still alive.
I know I'll see them again.
I know there are worse things going on in the world.
I know they still love us.
I know they are men now and the last thing on earth a healthy man wants to do is live with his mother forever.
I know I still have 2 boys left at home. (That is like flippantly telling a paraplegic, "Oh well. You don't have the use of your legs anymore but you still have your arms.")

I've made lists in my head about "all the positives". Less noise. Less mess. Less cooking. Less laundry.

Those lists don't help much. Where did my little guys go? Yesterday we had these:





Today, these:




"You and I are like a pair of Ashton's twins, bound together in some unworldly way...sharing a spirit, we're so alike.
When we are parted, when you leave me, I believe that bond will snap and I will bleed inwardly and you'll forget me after a while..."
(Rochester talking to Jane Eyre)

That's almost how I feel right now; it's a little extreme, but I do feel like I've taken to bleeding inwardly. This is the end of our family as it's always been. Not the end of it always and forever. Just as it's always been.

Soak up your babies. Enjoy your kids. Even their noises, their messes, the cooking, and all the laundry you don't feel like doing.