Transition

                                                   

          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 8^th 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.