Motherhood

Motherhood looks quite different these days. With grown children living in two different states there’s not much handholding I do. And though my youngest still lives at home, he towers over me by at least 5 inches and his voice is as deep as Barry White’s. So, I’m certainly not changing any diapers, or spoon feeding him.

Nothing anyone said could have prepared me for this immense loss I feel. I’ve spent the last 21 years with my children at the forefront of every decision I make, every action I take. They were the center of my world, and I was the center of theirs. Things have shifted.

My duties as a mother are now more of a listening ear, soft place to land, non-judgmental friend who gives common-sense advice and calms any storm that may pop up in my children’s lives.

There’s a sense of loneliness that has overwhelmed me for quite some time. I’m lonely now, because there’s no one begging me to make dinner, and no need for me to wipe a runny nose. Of course, I feel a certain freedom with this shift in motherhood. And I’m learning to balance this new found freedom with the loneliness that I’m experiencing.

It’s an adjustment. And I’m navigating it the best I can.

It’s the strangest thing to parent an adult; the same adult that you’ve watched grow from a seven-pound, helpless infant. It’s difficult for me to view my children as independent thinkers, autonomous apart from me. But isn’t that what I reared them to be?

Gone are the days when they depended on me for their basic needs. But sometimes, often-times, I want my babies back.