The Continuing Process of Letting Go...

"Your children are not your children, they are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They came through you but not from you and though they are with you yet they belong not to you." ~ Kahlil Gibran

Transition time means taking stock, moving on, shedding false selves and re-defining myself as I enter the second half of my life. Another unexpected part of the process is slowly letting go as my children become teens and young adults.

Perhaps it happens to other parents, but once in a while I run smack into the reality that my children are almost grown. When I was a small child I once walked into a plate glass door, it was so crystal clear that I failed to see the glass- I was focusing on the flowers I saw in the lobby. Dizzy and shaking I was momentarily stunned. That best describes the feeling that slams into me occasionally when I am faced with the irrefutable evidence that my children are on the fast track to adulthood.

The first wave hit me ten years ago, when my oldest son graduated from the 8th grade. I was warned by my oldest brother and sister-in- law that the next four years would pass quickly, and they were right. Before I could really come to terms with the fact that I had a child old enough to be in high school he moved on to college five states away.

Letting go of him, trusting that he would be okay without me in his daily life was hard enough. Last summer I let go again, when I agreed that he could live off campus with four other friends. It was a wise choice. He has learned how to balance study time and party time, realized that if he needed a job to help pay the utility bills, and did some soul searching about his career path.

He is coming home for two weeks between semesters. I am excited about having him home for even a short time, but he is not flying this time- he and a friend will be driving back. I am the queen of the worst case scenario. I see all of the liabilities and problems that could arise on this trip. Bad drivers, their own inexperience, driving through Atlanta just to name a few. I was picturing every sort of calamity, but my son calmly acknowledged all of my anxieties and finally said, "Mom, I know how hard it is for you. I know you want me safe, but I am 20 years old. I've got to do this some time."

And he is right. It's time for me to let go again. I've got to trust my son to make the right choices, to step back and show him that I believe in him.

That brought me to the realization that in two short years, my life will change again. My oldest will be graduating from college and my middle son will be finishing high school. I cannot believe that the first two years of high school have gone by in the blink of an eye. In a couple of weeks he will be standing in line at the DMV ready to receive his operators license.
He is going to be driving without me by his side, his other set of eyes. Once again I have to let go and trust he has the good sense and maturity to handle it.

When I went through labor, I thought that was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I was wrong. Letting go is by far, the most wrenching, and the most painful process of being a parent.