The mid September sunshine feels like
it should never end while the crisp breeze gently transitions nature
to cooler temperatures and shorter days. September is a transition
month. Weekend barbecues wind down, schedules tighten up. From
many years spent as a student and a mother of students, September,
more than the end of December, brings anticipation of the new and a
letting go of the comfortable and easy. This September, I can't help
but reflect upon my personal transition from mother with a full house
of children to a mother of young adults who are moving toward
independence, including actual geographical separation from me.
This didn't happen overnight. In
fact, it is still happening. As August became
September, a number of milestones pushed me along to the place I now
find myself. My oldest daughter, after completing an Americorps year,
has moved to a new city many, many miles away; a city I had never
even been to before taking a 14 hour road trip to move her pared
down belongings into her new apartment. In her new
city, she is pursuing a new career and a young relationship. That's
what 23 year olds do. I'm proud of myself for not inflicting guilt
upon her for moving so far away from family or passing along
anxieties about the risks she is taking. After all, she is growing
up whether I like it or not. So, with a conscious effort I vow to
maintain, I chose to support her decision and let her know that she
is welcome to come back home (although her room might be taken over
by her brother).
A few weeks after waving goodbye to
that daughter, my husband and I found ourselves driving through the
just emerging autumn foliage of the Adirondacks to bring our 20 year
old to college in another country. (OK, Montreal is only 6 hours
away, but she is still considered an international student).
Last year, after a semester at a nearby college, she decided to make
a change. She moved back home for 8 months and worked part-time at
a bakery and an art school while exploring her options. I got used
to having a fun, young woman around. Now, I miss her. My 18 year
old son is living at home and attending college locally. Luckily, I
do still see his face everyday, but as befits a college student, his
day is his own. I don't have a hand in choosing his classes, will
never meet his teachers, and hopefully won't nag him about homework.
The same goes for his job as a counselor at an after school program.
I do get to delight in his delight as he recounts the antics of the
children he looks after, but I promise that I won't be talking to his
supervisor about how he is doing. Fortunately, I am not going cold
turkey, I do still have an 8th grade son at home who needs
rides to practice, help with homework, plenty of meals and snacks,
and my attention in general. Of course, at 14, he is undergoing a
powerful transition of his own. As he negotiates adolescence, my
job is to balance his desire for increased independence with his need
for motherly love and attention and watch him grow into yet another
young adult.
September will come again, but I can't
go back in time and become the center of the universe for four
adorable, innocent, and funny children. On the other hand, I am
confident that a parent-child bond does not have to rupture for
independence to be attained. I can keep moving forward and growing
too as I learn to nurture my relationships with my grown and growing
children in new and different ways through seasons to come.
