Tears 2: A New Season

I began this note on Monday morning with tears freely flowing, but was interrupted by a phone call from Monica and Danny that, on their way to Medford, they'd had a fender bender (literally) in Kennewick. So I, of course, put on my calm, cool, and collected hat immediately and got down to helping with the situation at hand. That's what I do. I'm a mom. But these Monday feelings have been resting just below the surface for the past few days as I have watched their progress in finally getting to their destination. I know that when I get home the reality of it all will seem, well,  un-real. Ah, life's transitions. It's Gumby time again. And so I share:

Monday 10.10.11

As I fought down sobs putting on my makeup today, I was struck with the irony that a little over a year ago I was in this very place trying to put on makeup through tears last year. I was preparing to leave Jill, Jake, and one month old Cadence to begin my life as a long distance gramma and I wrote a note called "Tears." This morning I was saying goodbye as my last little bird, Monica, flew the "forest" for the place that the Lord has prepared for her and her husband Danny, and here I am in Pensacola once again. And once again, Ty and I are parted for this final goodbye. 

I've pretty much been a puddle since last night, knowing that they were having dinner with his parents and Ty, knowing that the U-Haul was packed and ready, knowing that they were sleeping in our basement spare bed...so close to home, but so far from me. It is one thing to intellectually consent to the idea that your children are leaving, and quite another to say goodbye. I've known for years that none of them would live in Spokane for very long, but that hasn't made this tearing away any easier on my heart.

(This reverie is now interrupted by the fender bender and some days to think on these things.)

Thursday 10.13.11

Our children's lives were once so contained within our lives. Moving from grade to grade, having friends over, plays, games, activities, concerts. Helping them navigate growing up, but still having a bit of control over their environment. And if "control" is the wrong word, then at least having more of the decision making authority even while slowly giving that over to them. Little did we know then, but our desire and need to pray for them would only grow with time. 

Today as I reflected on the dynamics of all the changes that have touched our lives in the last 3-5 years I realized that, though Ty and I have emptied our nest, our children's lives have almost taken on an exponential effect. No longer are they individual children under our care, but they are married children, each with an entire universe of a life of their own. So in our equation of family with three kids we've gone from, let's say, "3x" to "x cubed" or x^3. (Sorry if you don't follow the math analogy, but if x=3, then 3x3=9, but 3 cubed=3x3x3=27. Add two sons-in-law, a daughter-in-law, and grandkids, and that equation continues to grow.) Granted, on a day to day basis, we aren't dealing with raising them, but their lives in the adult world of marriage, children, school, and work are larger and more complicated. Thus our need to let go and let them live independently becomes a more difficult challenge. And we must let go if they are to be strengthened by their own adversity and enjoy the full freedom of adulthood, but it ain't easy. It's tough love of another sort, I guess. Maintaining that balance of being available, but not under foot. 

And so I will return to Spokane in less than a week to a very quiet house, and a quieter town. Ty and I will look at each other and likely laugh and shake our heads. What a ride the past few years have been. What a ride the past few weeks have been. I know that there will be more tears here and there as well. That's ok. Those tears will fall and water the seeds of what is next. I've been reading in Isaiah for the past few mornings. This passage hit home: 

“Forget the former things; 

   do not dwell on the past. 

See, I am doing a new thing! 

   Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 

I am making a way in the wilderness 

   and streams in the wasteland." ~Is 43:18,19 

I welcome His work, hard as it may be sometimes. And I do not want to miss the new things He has planned. Fall even seems a fitting season for this season of our lives. A time when what was new dies away so that what will be can come forth. As I prepare to return home I look forward to spending time with Ty, perhaps that long awaited date at a favorite coffee shop, and to be face to face sharing our feelings of "oh my goodness!" or as he so aptly said the other night over the phone, to "just be." Be together. Be in the moment. Be facing tomorrow together. When the tears spring forth again, we'll let them come. We're both kind of sappy and sentimental. We'll just sop them up with a scone, take another sip of coffee, and look forward to Spring.