Children Coming Home

Shannon with one of her new best friends from Macedonia.


Four of my five kids are home, after a long two weeks with only one or two here at a time.

I have yet to process this comletely, but when we were riding home from the airport, together again, I realized how completely incapacitated I have felt this week. I was physically sick, yes; but that wasn’t necessarily kid related (“Or WAS it???” asks a maniacal voice, sounding somewhat like my subliminal self….)
My four oldest children were gone, and I became incomplete.
Before my mom calls me up to tell me I’d better get used to it – that they’re going to all leave eventually – let me say that I’m prepared for that. In fact, although I miss Sarah, there’s something very natural about her absence. She’s 18. She just graduated. It’s time for her to fly.
But because motherhood and its responsibilities have dictated my every choice, every action, especially in the few years, this felt like a huge, gaping, sudden and unexpected wound. Even though it wasn’t.
Makes me wonder how ready you can ever be to watch someone walk away. Even if you’re sure they’re coming back.
Makes me wonder what lies underneath all that’s labeled “MOM” in me. Even though I’ve always been pretty sure I knew.
I’m a lot less certain of that than I expected I’d ever be.
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  1. WOW Beth, this seems like really great processing of some big stuff? Keep going… I'd bet there's more to mine here. Motherhood is such a permanent identity- once you are one you're never not one again. On the other hand- it's only one part of who we are. And the role is ever changing depending on which 'child' and when. Have you ever looked into the spiritual discipline of detachment? Pretty fascinating – and hard work. Love to you and yours. Do you ever come this way any more? Would love to see you.

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