My Mama Arms

For years I have wanted to start a blog, if for no other reason than to record the happenings of my life so that when my mom-brain acts up I can go back and retrace my own steps.  However, the very reason I need to do this is because my life is so harried and busy that I can't find time to tie my shoes, let alone write blog posts.  And so, I never took the plunge.  I was convinced that it would simply be something I would begin, but never stick with, and so would just induce guilt...and goodness knows, as a mom to five children I have managed to heap enough of that stinky feeling onto myself without adding more! 

2013 has been a year of change in our family.  Actually, many of my nearly twenty years of marriage have involved a great deal of change.  There were five children born, many (MANY) changes of address as we moved frequently, job changes, new school years begun, and so much more.  I've always just rolled with it.  I learned long ago that if I was going to survive my life, I would need to be flexible.  Very, very flexible.  But 2013 has been different.  It has been the REAL beginning of my mama arms letting go of one of my babies, and that is a change this lady hasn't loved.  In fact, I might even go so far as to use a word I don't prefer to use.  I have HATED it.  But, I have also loved it.  And that is something that requires more work for me to process.  So, here we are.

In June of 1995 I was welcomed into the most amazing club in the universe...MOTHERHOOD!!!  And it was (and still is) an indescribable blessing.  From the very moment I looked into the face of that beautiful baby girl, I felt as if everything I had ever done, every word I had ever said, every breath I had ever taken, had been leading up to that moment.  Because nothing else that I had ever done or said had ever really mattered as much as everything I said and did after that.  My Megan was a beautiful blessing and I loved her more than I could describe.  And I had the remarkable opportunity to feel that love grow, four more times, to encompass four more amazing little ones that God chose me (ME!!! with all my failures and shortcomings!!!) to be a mom to!  And I have spent the past 18 1/2 years waking up every day trying to do better than the day before.  Some days I found success in that goal, and some days...well, some days I didn't. 

In June, my Megan turned 18, just weeks after she graduated from high school.  These were both milestones in her journey, but also in mine.  As a mom, each step your child takes away from you is significant.  The mixture of emotions is nearly as difficult to describe as the love you feel for them.  There is no part of me that is unaware of the fact that everything I have done for over 18 years has been work to prepare my child to go out into the world without me, to prepare her to love, live, and thrive as the woman God created her to be.  And yet, watching her walk away, even just a bit, does - to be perfectly honest - break my heart just a bit.  Knowing that I can never go back to spending days with my little curly-pig-tailed, brown-eyed beauty holding my hand while we explored the world together makes me weepy.  Realizing that the moments in time where I will have all my ducklings in my home all together are now fewer and fleeting causes me angst.  And reflecting on all the times that I could have done better, should have done better, would give anything to have done better, is just plain exhausting. 

It has taken me two and a half months to reach a point where I can objectively step back, take a breath, and "talk" about the way this makes me feel.  Driving Megan to college -and, as a side note, I should throw out there that the college Megan chose is 1,400 miles away from our home, so when I say I had to let go, I REALLY had to let go!!!- was an adventure.  Rob (my husband and partner in crime for over 19 years) and I had never been to New York and so it was all a new experience for all three of us.  We loaded up our SUV with everything but the kitchen sink and more pairs of shoes than I could count and set out on a cross-country odyssey.  We had a great time, spending time at Navy Pier in Chicago and even taking a detour to the Scranton, PA mall to take our daughter's picture by the infamous "Welcome to Scranton" sign in tribute to her love of "The Office." :)  We arrived in New York a day early (as an intentional part of my obsessive need to plan) so that we could spend a day exploring the public transportation system from Megan's dorm to the city because I knew it was only a matter of time before she would be using that mode of transportation on her own and I knew I would never sleep a wink if I wasn't sure she knew what she was doing.  We boarded the Metra North train and made our way into New York City, navigated Grand Central Station and the subway system, took in some true tourist sites, and then made our way back again to our hotel near campus.  That night, I didn't sleep at all, and not because I felt like Megan wasn't going to be able to navigate her way to and from New York City, because she is a brilliant girl and she did a wonderful job of getting us where we needed to be.  I didn't sleep because my mama arms were aching from all the letting go I was about to have to do...

We woke up bright and early to shower, dress, and have some breakfast before we headed to campus.  For hours, we worked on unpacking and setting up her room to make her as comfortable as we could.  I simply turned my brain off and focused on the task at hand, with more zeal than was probably necessary but it was simply the only thing I could do...I knew that in just a few hours I was going to have to turn and walk away from my baby, and I just didn't know how I would ever manage to do such a thing.  Ever.  And yet, no matter how much I turned my brain off, the clock still kept ticking, and eventually 5:00pm arrived.  It was the hour designated for goodbyes...the hour where parents were asked, oh so politely, to LEAVE so that "orientation" could officially begin.  As Megan walked us down the stairs and out onto the lawn, my feet felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds...I couldn't believe the time had actually come!!  Tears streamed down my face, no matter how much I willed them not to...I knew the more upset I was, the harder this would be for her, too!  And yet, I couldn't stop myself.  The emotions were simply too raw, too strong, and so I cried.  And so did she.  And we hugged.  And we hugged again.  And, finally, I knew I just had to walk away because if I didn't, I would just march myself up the stairs of her dorm and camp out until Fall Break.  So, I told her I loved her and that she should call me, constantly, and I walked away.  I did it, and I still don't know how.  My mama arms ached and my feet felt like lead, but I made my way to our truck, crawled inside, shut the door, and sobbed.  My poor husband...what a mess I was!!  The next few days, as we packed our suitcases and made our way back across the country were filled with conversations about how on earth this had happened...how had we ended up with a college freshman?!?!?  Hadn't it been just yesterday that we brought her home from the hospital?  That we took her to kindergarten?  That we watched her go to her first school dance?  It had, and so how was it possible that we were really driving away from our baby and leaving her all alone at college!??!?!?

But, as in all things, time has a way of healing.  My mama arms still ache, but it is just my new normal and I have learned to embrace this new life.  This life where she "calls" me via FaceTime with a room full of friends so all her friends can talk to her mom, too.  This life where she texts me wanting to call me during the day to tell me how excited she is that she has been chosen to host an alumni event in the city and will be picked up and driven into New York and be eating dinner at a five star restaurant, and has no idea what to wear!!! :)  This life where my daughter is growing up and is strong and smart and independent and confident.  But where she is still my little girl, still wants to hear her mom's opinion, still wants to talk to me about the adventures she is having, the friends she is making, the experiences she is having, and where she, too, is counting the days until she flies home to us to visit.  This new life is different, and it's a little hard to get used to, but it is good, too.  Because, after all, my mama arms are still my mama arms, and I have learned that just as they can stretch to love five children with so much might, they can also stretch 1,400 miles to love my little girl who isn't so little anymore.  And that is very, very good.