Why doesn’t it get easier?
I started this entry last night and then got sidetracked.
Today seems “easier” indeed, but yesterday, after I said goodbye (“See ya later”, really) to one of my daughters who was visiting for several days, I fought tears until I went to sleep for the night. When I started this blog post, I thought of many things to say about this, and they all either escape me now or sound too whiney. Suffice to say, I, like most mothers I’m sure, feel that my beautiful children represent the investment of my whole being, not simply a span of time since I gave birth in my twenties.
An elderly relative of an elderly relative once said to me, “Having children destines you to a lifetime of worry.”. At the time, I reflected on how treasured my own were and that they had protected me, occasionally, from undue stress by keeping secret some details about risks that they took or troubles that they’d had (at least until long after the fact). I felt rather defensive about the remark, interpreting it to mean that one’s child was “a burden”; now I know she didn’t mean it that way.
Although I see my adult children more often than some parents see theirs, I’m taken aback at how much grief I feel when separated from them after a short visit or a longer one. A beloved uncle once said about his own daughter, “Her leaving creates a vacuum.”. I absolutely understand that perception. All we can do is “suck it up” and carry on, knowing that our family will keep in touch, and we will continue to have our own busy lives while we think of them daily.
While I was writing all of that, I realized that I hadn’t phoned my own stepmother for some weeks, so I took a few moments to do so. It’s “high time” I went to visit, and will make that trip sometime this month.
After I hung up the phone my friend (who is one of our Sunday “breakfast club”) called to say she’d be a few minutes late. I also will be, if I don’t get up and leave now… so thank you for reading my weblog and I hope you have a good day!
~ Ann
