I never wanted children. I leaned more towards having a cleaning lady. The math made more sense. Also, I do love a good clean floor. It continues to surprise me that I have three children and 35 chickens. More surprising is the 10-year gap between our eldest and the youngest. Many think our youngest, Owen, is a result of a second marriage. Not so. I have vague recollections of a six pack of Corona and a sunny afternoon. But that’s another story.
For 29 years I have been a mother to three wonderful children. Yes, I made mistakes and have fully committed to paying their therapy bills but overall, they are great and they bring me joy. I spent years cheering at games, volunteering at bake sales, coaching, excelling at 50/50 sales, attending parent committee meetings and being a part of launching young souls into the world of adulthood. And then, this past April, I was officially laid off. More directly, I was fired.
Our youngest, Owen, arrived back from college and announced “Mom, I’ve got this”. I wasn’t really sure what this meant. Did he mean that he might finally clean his room? Give the bathroom a scrub? Take out the garbage? Make dinner? What did “I’ve got this” mean?
I hoped it meant the above but apparently he meant something different. He was ready to “adult”. However, “adulting” is a staged experience where he gets to pick and choose. He may think he is an “adult” but clearly, I am still the cleaning lady. See paragraph one. This isn’t quite what I was aiming for.
I had been hopeful for domestic contribution not separation papers. Owen meant that he no longer wanted my help. He felt that we “don’t work well together”. He also cited that I “complicate things” and my follow through was not the vision he had. This would be a good time to also insert that while college was fun, it was a painful academic experience and I “made him do it”. All this led to. “Mom, you need to just let me do it myself. I don’t need your help”.
Fired. No retirement party, no watch and not even a letter of recommendation and certainly no pension. I had been unceremoniously “dismissed”.
I always knew the mission was to help them spread their wings and fly but secretly, I didn’t want to let go. I still wanted to hold the string. More like a kite than a bird. And then, Owen cut the string.
To quote the Lion King, this is “the circle of life”. I went through it with our older two kids who are 29 and 26. The difference is that when they let go, I still had Owen. Now, I just have me and who am I if I am not needed as a mom? And please don’t tell me that I am the domestic help. That hasn’t been the most rewarding volunteer experience.
The reality is that my kids are grown. My chapter of being the centre of their world is over. I have been laid off and am redundant. All those wonderful moments of being busy with them is something of the past. Our relationship has changed and I have to get used to the fact that they don’t need me the way they used to. In fact, they have assured me that they don’t need me at all. Well, unless I invite them for dinner. Great. More dishes.
One might think that I would rejoice in having all this new found time. In truth, I am bored to tears. I miss being busy with kids and volunteering. I miss cheering at games and my days being full with their activities. I miss being needed. Now what?
With Owen returning home in April and making his grand statement of independence, I had to ask myself what was my next move. Sure, it’s great that my daughter Megan asks me to watch her puppy but really, it’s not quite what I was looking for to fill my days. I had to start thinking forward and figuring out my next moves.
I took up gardening. I heard people loved it. Planting little seeds and delighting as the little heads popped up promising bountiful crops. So I tried it (again!). I planted all the little seeds and lovingly watered them and watched their little heads pop up. Small glitch. I wasn’t quite sure what was supposed to be the start of my bounty and what was a weed so I just let it all grow and thought I would just figure it out. It turns out that my lovingly planted cilantro seeds died and I spent months nurturing a very pretty selection of weeds. I have decided that I will serve the world better by supporting farmers markets. They take debit cards and no skill required.
Since I crossed off gardening from my list. I had to keep looking. Life was a clean slate and I further decreed that summer 2025 would be the Summer of Yes! I would say “yes” to everything and see what happened.
My husband Wayne and I were invited to join a group on a fishing trip to the West Coast of British Columbia. I said yes. Ok, maybe I don’t like fishing, but in the spirit of adventure, I thought it would be a great holiday for us. We hadn’t had a holiday as just the two of us since before the kids were born. I thought it would be great. And it was. We met the nicest people and got to see a beautiful part of our country. It was an excellent “yes”.
We were asked to go on a hiking / rafting trip and again, I said “yes”. It was a glorious adventure that took us to places that I never imagined that I would see. And while it was amazing, my husband Wayne and I still don’t fully mesh over our versions of wilderness camping. Not going to lie, there were sharp tones and some terse replies and some long stretches of silence but no one accidently died in their sleep.
I don’t know what it is with me and Wayne. Why can’t we get along when the excursion involves a tent and a backpack? I think it has something to do with the fact that he is all geared up and he looks after himself. I don’t recall him doing the grocery shopping or meal planning or the packing but he does look good in those expensive hiking pants. I got grouchy because I was walking through the bush in my Costco shorts. My backpack was driving me crazy because it’s not my backpack. I had to borrow one. And my thermarest that was supposed to blow up to be a nice cushion had a hole in it. I guess after 25 years, things wear out. And not just me….
You see, while I was cooking, cleaning, organizing, planning and nurturing for the future, everyone else was adventuring and had the gear. I missed the memo that there was life outside of being a mom. I get grouchy with Wayne because after all these years, I think I just wanted him to look after me. I wanted him to see if I had the right gear, to check and see what help I needed and to acknowledge that the ten year gap meant that I stayed home with Owen while he was out and about with the older two. Those ten years was a decade that I didn’t develop skills, or build up gear. I stayed home. And yes, that is somewhat melodramatic. Even as I write it, I see it as a little whiny (maybe a lot) but there is a sprinkle of truth. I shouldn’t have gotten grouchy. I just missed the memo to not only care for the family but also to care for me.
So I pressed on and said YES to a bike trip in Quebec. That was a tough one. For years, we have done everything for the kids so it was new for me to spend indulgently on myself but I forced myself to say “yes”. A friend and I traveled to Montreal and then spent a week biking to Quebec City. It was marvelous. We also stayed in hotels.
In September, When I got back from biking, I entered a baking competition, signed up for hockey school and ripped out the damn garden. I didn’t win the baking competition, sucked at hockey school but felt exhilarated with eradicating my garden of weeds. Fresh start.
My children are grown and I am adrift and looking to find new direction and purpose. I feel left behind. I think that this is common. I think others might feel it too. I think each of us have an ache when things come to and end. When a career comes to an end, when friendships run their course, when relationships wither and definitely when loved ones die.
Anna Quindlen described this as the “before and after”. Maybe I have written that before but it continues to resonate deeply. It describes change with pain and loss. The feeling of being left behind through no fault of our own or maybe we made a choice to make change and that process was hard and left us feeling raw. Change is inevitable but bloody hell, no one mentioned having to become a contortionist to survive this journey called life.
The feeling of being left behind has also forced me to peek out the door and stare in the mirror. Who have I left behind? Who did I let go without severance or notice or even a reason? If you are hearing my insides churn, they are. Karma appears to be real. It’s making me think where I need to do better and what amends I need to make. I’m worried that I have likely hurt people and have been oblivious to my callousness. Now I feel really nauseous. Life is somewhat unrelenting as we get hurled against the rocks to perhaps become weathered and smooth. I likely have as many thank you notes as apology letters. Oh good. Something to do other than mop the floors.
Life is not easy. It’s complicated, messy, uncertain and at times unkind and unrelenting. I hate the ache. I despise being untethered from a sense of purpose and to top it off, my favourite jeans don’t fit anymore. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse. It does.
Winston Churchill said it well. “When you’re going through hell, keep going”. I never understood that quote, until I did. But what I also understand is that it is hell going through change but it gets better if I stick it out.
Yes, I was fired but that doesn’t mean that my children don’t love me. They are just ready to be their own people. It’s just different. The chapter is over but the story goes on. The characters develop and new plot lines begin.
Loss hurts and change is painful. I feel that. If you have had similar feelings, you are not alone. We will lose opportunities, friendships, loved ones and it will hurt in places we didn’t know it could hurt. When we are robbed of something we love, it’s easy to keel over and gasp for air. And while we will be forever changed by the loss, there will be room to grow towards something new. We won’t be the same but we can be something new.
I am going to keep looking for ways to say YES. Yes to new friends, ideas, adventures and new hobbies. I will also keep baking, trying to improve at hockey but I am ok giving up gardening. I am also learning to feel empowered to break patterns. Sometimes, Tuesday night dinner is cheese and crackers. If anyone wants something different, they can cook. I was fired and now, I am free.
Here’s to holding hands when our hearts hurt and to believing in new beginnings.
With love,
Shelley
And Then I Jumped...... 