Most days I feel like I am flying through life holding onto an imaginary rope that is pulling me. I have to hold on tight, since it is the rope that is allowing me to be a part of life. Most days I feel like I am just holding on.
Life is just going by so fast!
July 20, 2000, I became a mom. I’ll never forget the moment I looked at the little human that came out of my belly. He looked up at me like he knew me. His cries immediately ceased when his skin touched mine. We were connected in the most amazing way.
I couldn’t believe that God would choose ME to be his mom. I felt so inadequate and so thankful at the same time.
January 25, 2002, it happened again. That connection. The pain that I went through for hours prior to that moment instantly faded. Our eyes met, our skin touched, and I changed again.
December 3, 2003, and February 28, 2006. 3rd and 4th experiences of becoming a mom again. Each time was unique, each connection just as powerful and amazing.
The four days that I became a mom will always be the BEST DAYS OF MY LIFE.
Two of my four children are now adults.
I thought maybe if I typed those words they might seem more true, more real to me…
Somehow, the magical age of 18 does not make them adults in my mind. They will always be my babies. I will always see them the way we saw each other that first day.
I will never let go of them.
Yet, I have to.
I have to trust that everything I have done so far, and everything that everyone who has influenced them so far, will be enough. I have to believe that they are capable of being adults.
Yesterday, my most recent adult drove us to Ann Arbor (over an hour away). As I sat in the passenger seat, silently trusting her every maneuver, I realized that this is what I must continue to do… Let her “drive.”
She did great, and I was impressed. I looked over a few times, at how comfortable she was behind the wheel, and how much she no longer needed me to help her navigate. I realized in that moment, that she has the “wheel.”
She has control.
She will be okay.
Letting go must be a process. I am only beginning to understand how it all works. Maybe that imaginary rope that I am holding on to most days, is now theirs.
I hope that these adults I have raised will do more than just hold on. I hope they can let go sometimes, without the fears I had, and just live. I hope the world doesn’t pass them by the way it sometimes has for me.
I hope they will always know how much I love them.
I hope they never forget our connection.