And then they leave….

I’ll love you forever

I’ll like you for always

As long as I’m living

My baby you’ll be

Robert Munsch from Love You Forever

I think I have mentioned that I never planned to have kids. Diapers, sticky hands, obnoxious behavior were all “no go” for me. Other people could have children. I was keen on a life. Also, I had no idea how to raise children. That sounded like a bad idea. I don’t fix my own car and I certainly shouldn’t be in charge of small people looking to grow up.

I have three children. The irony is not lost.

Like anyone who has been touched by kids, your heart expands in ways that you never imagined. They touch a part of your core that you didn’t know you had and they ignite a love that is impossible to describe. Kids have a magic and they weave their way into your heart. Ask anyone who has had a child sit on their lap, wrap their arms around your neck and nestle in for a total “love in”. If you want unconditional love, hug kids.

I didn’t know that this would happen but I tightened my seat belt and held on. As much as loving my kids was great, there were many times when watching them sleep were my best memories. Also, it meant that the chaos of the day had come to a conclusion.

Our kids are 23, 21 and 14. I have been through terrible 2’s, hellish 3’s, horrible 4’s and more. I lived through colic, tantrums, testosterone and teenage chaos. There were many days when I felt there was a loud speaker shouting “clean up in aisle three” and I would go running. It wasn’t easy and we had to lean in.

“The days are long, the years are short” Dammit. It’s true. There were days that felt like years and then suddenly, it was over. They left. At least the older two did. In a blink, they were gone. All that messiness, all those moments, all those years and with a click of a suitcase, they jumped out. I had done my job. I raised them to leave and become independent and pursue their dreams. They were ready for their next steps. This was way too whacked and certainly NOT the job satisfaction I imagined.

COVID 19 brought them all home. Yes, there was chaos and yes, they all acted like they were 14, 12 and 4 but gosh it was fun. Especially having Aiden and Megan home. It was a gift being all together. It was also incredibly gorgeous to spend time with my adult children. The “things” that they had turned into after all the muck. This was job satisfaction. Being able to adore them as people and loving conversations and insights and moments. All those tough moments of “holding the line” and helping them was realized as we sat on the porch and enjoyed an adult relationship. This was joy. I could stay in this Nirvana forever, even if it meant I was still doing clean up in aisle three.

But things change. My eldest, Aiden, graduated from the University of Victoria this year. Or, he was supposed to. Thanks to COVID19, I think his degree is being mailed. He’s now an electrical engineer. I’m super proud of him. I never got a degree so the fact that my eldest has one is super awesome. He has become exactly what I wanted. He has achieved more than me. Thank God. And don’t think it was easy because that first year was a major fuck up but he didn’t quit. He brushed himself off and started again. He worked uphill and then he finished. Wow. Did I mention that I am super proud?

He didn’t have a job due to COVID 19. That was stressful but he practiced peace and trusting the process. Sure enough, it worked out. Just recently he was offered the job he wanted. Before he starts, he left to visit his girlfriend. That was tricky. I wanted him to stay. Our last night wasn’t fabulous. I said, “if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back”. He took this as a slight; it got a bit tense and there might have been some heated exchanges.

Here’s the thing. “If it doesn’t work out, you can always come back” was meant as, “I will love you forever and you always have a place“. This wasn’t articulated well. He is carving out his life and excited for new beginnings. His life landscape is all new. I wasn’t criticizing him, I was missing him. “Clean up in aisle three” has been my role. There isn’t one time that I wouldn’t be there for my kids and not to be a part of this next chapter is killing me. When I said “if it doesn’t work out, you can always come back”, it was intended to mean, “I am always here for you“. I miss him. We miss him. Life is empty without him. He adds to our life and for a few weeks, with him here, life felt whole.

It’s not easy moving from active participant to supportive bystander. All those years, I gave everything I had. Some days I was a rock star, other days I likely could have done with professional coaching and there were certainly moments that if I had a supervisor, they would have written me up in my file. But each day, I gave it my all because my only goal was to make sure that they could be so much more than me.

I write this because when we lean into the lives of children, we sign up for heart break. The love we give is the inspiration they use to spread their wings, fly and then soar. I can only hope that sometimes they come back to say hello.

My children are my greatest surprise. I didn’t know “love” until I knew them and there is NOTHING that they could do to disappoint me. Well, except not come home for Thanksgiving because that’s an upspoken rule and expectation. Also, it’s a super fun week-end.

Here’s the deal. My heart grew when I met them and now it breaks as they leave. I know it’s supposed to be this way but it doesn’t make it easier. Our home will always be their home. More than anything, I want to ensure that they feel we are the safe haven when the world of life gets rocky and they need reprieve. I am so proud of each of them. They are gorgeous souls who bring joy. I didn’t know that I would feel split in two when I started this journey. Deep love equals deep loss. Watching them fly is beautiful but heartbreaking. Their new life is another chapter. These three creatures are the story of my life and I would give my everything to them to ensure they had what they needed to live a whole and fulfilling life.

“If it doesn’t work out, you can always come back” is a mother’s message of love. I know you’ll be fine and better than fine but let me have my moment. My heart is breaking knowing that you are moving on. Hear me. I love you. I like you. I miss you. Who would have guessed that hearing “clean up on aisle three” would be missed and give me ponder to consider where I fit now. When you give it your all, it’s hard to transition to ordinary.

To you my beautiful children, “as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be”. Bear with me as I adjust and if you hear anything in my words, let it be “I love you“.

Here’s to the messiness of relationships, the chaos of connection and the growth that comes from caring deeply. Loving kids is possibly one of the greatest gifts we can give and that includes everyone.

With love,

Shelley