The Archer’s Bow
On letting go
I found this note in a box of letters from my mom. I don’t remember why she took the time to write down this particular section of the larger poem, On Children. Maybe it was tucked inside a mother’s day card. Maybe she witnessed me exhausted at the end of a long day with three children, and wanted to remind me of the beauty of parenthood. Regardless, it was a gift that I uncovered just as my first born son was preparing to leave for college.
Into the Infinite
This past weekend the archer bent this bow (me) as my oldest arrow flew into the path of the infinite. I am feeling sad, sentimental, and nostalgic. I grieve for the lack of daily presence of my son. But I am also excited, proud, and hopeful. I look forward to my son’s future adventures, his career path and his new community of friends and mentors.
Most of my friends who have a child leaving for school this fall are having a hard time, all of them mothers. All of them have a younger one at home… and yet. A friend of mine who doesn’t have a college bound child yet asked if he is my favorite. I laughed — a favorite child? They’re all three vastly different individuals with the common thread of blood woven between them. One shares my love of music and another has little interest, another walks too slowly and another at too quick of a pace, one loves to try new foods and another gags at the thought, another I can get sympathy for a bad hair day while another never brushes their hair. I know that each goodbye will have its own flavor, that I’ll grieve for losing different aspects of each child.
Adult Children
Also, mothering an 18-year-old looks different, and I’m beginning to understand what it will look like to have adult children. They shift closer to being a peer, closer but not exactly, reacting to life more like an adult than ever before, able to better rationalize through situations. Still, I reminded him to wash his sheets every other week (every week is setting the bar too high), he often wears shorts when it’s sweater weather, and he still loves building legos. In fact, one of our last activities together was to build a bonsai lego tree. I’m often tempted to talk to him like a friend, and bring him into the fold, but I still hold the line. For example I have yet to tell him about any men I’ve gone on dates with, but I suppose that’ll come with time.
It’s a strange thing, to let a kid go. With everything you have you want your child to thrive and be strong and courageous enough to join society as an independent and well-formed human. But oh, how a little bit of you wants to wrap your arms around them and plead them not to go.
Then they do — he did — and there’s the other side. Now, will it get easier with the next two because, well, been there done that? Or harder because pretty soon they’ll all be gone? I guess time will tell.
