learning to let go...

St. Louis Amtrak Station
It's so hard to watch your children grow up.  It's hard to stop being mommy.  Wanting to protect them.  I just watched my youngest board a train.  He's heading up to Chicago for an interview.  I struggled with it. 

I am so excited for him.  I am a bit of a Polly Anna and I am very optimistic for him. I want the best and I want him happy.  I know in my heart that he is going to do just fine.  Whether this ends up being the career path he follows or not it is an awesome journey to watch. He is still searching for that place that feels right, wow I hope he doesn't take after me and still be searching in his forty's....

I don't know why it was so hard to watch him walk down that hallway.  It's something I personally need to work on.  I felt guilty that he didn't have breakfast, worried that he'd had enough sleep, I was fretting about a million things.  I am extremely proud of him! I don't know why I worry.  I don't need to.

He's a grown man, he is stepping out into a bright future.  He's lived on his own for years.  He doesn't need his mom to be a mommy.  He needs a mom that has accepted that he has grown up. When I realize that at his age, I was a mom, had lived on two different continents as an adult, was struggling to pay bills and doing all those boring things, I feel like I am living in an alternate universe.  It is probably because in my mind I am still that woman... I haven't grown older...

I struggle with accepting he is grown.  It isn't his thing, it's mine.  He doesn't need me to nurture and coddle him, that is my "baggage".  I feel like I need it, I feel compelled to take care of him. I know that I am not going to stop mothering him, any more than I am ever going to be willing to stop mothering my oldest and she is a mom herself and has had more life experiences than I have.

Is it something that is genetically programmed?  I know I am not the only mom on the planet that is like this.  I just wonder. 

Here's the thing... I am very happy in my own life.  I love being my husband's wife and I really don't dwell in that world of being just a parent.  I enjoy being a grown up with grown up kids.  I love going off and doing fun stuff with hubby.  Having my own hobbies or career.  Yet I struggle the minute I feel they might need me. 

I am pretty sure that it is simply my need to be needed.  It was so painful when my girl started not needing me.  I felt lost to not speak to her daily.  To not be the one she called or leaned on.  And slowly I realized it felt great!  Not that I don't want her to call me (I still miss that).  But because she was in that place where she didn't need it, she was simply calling because she wanted to.  When the calls and visits were simply laughter and fun.  I felt needed, but in a completely different way.

With my youngest, I still haven't turned that corner.  I know I have a lot of guilt where he is concerned.  I need to let it go.  I know that I eventually will.  It felt a bit like I am starting to this morning.  I was so worried that he would be late for that train.  He doesn't know it, but I stood outside looking at the line of trains until I was sure he hadn't missed it.  Worried sick that I had caused him to be late.

I sent him a quick text from both hubby's and my phone (I had left mine at home).  At first I felt that familiar panic that I always feel when one of my kids doesn't respond right away.  And then... I felt that shift... I felt that change inside.  I heard the words coming out of my mouth, like they were some foreign entity, "he's a grown man, if he needed me he would have called"...

He doesn't need me to kiss his booboo's anymore, he doesn't need me to take care of him anymore.  He needs me to be supportive, to listen, to care about him, and to always be on his side.  I can do that! 

I am very proud of the wonderful, strong, and amazing adults my kids have become.  I love being their sideline team and support.  And I am okay with moving into this role...

but dang it sure is hard letting go...

Popular posts from this blog

Counting blessings...

defining success...

my valentine...