Freedom Files
Yesterday was my #1 son's 20th birthday. Imagine that! I know. He's been away from us over 18 months already - enjoying the work program he is enrolled in - living life as an independent.
I am very proud of him. From the time his feet hit the pavement after high school, he never looked back He's lived in seven different places, became fluent in French, supported himself with various jobs, managed his finances and learned to bake REALLY large blueberry muffins in a mega-muffin tin he bought at the second-hand store. Everywhere he goes, he makes friends and influences people and proves himself as a hard-working, dependable young man with integrity at his core.
At the same time, he hasn't forgotten about us. He sent flowers last Valentine's Day. He made the effort to travel cross-country for several days to be here in time to celebrate Christmas. And he phones often enough for us to stop worrying about circumstances over which we have no control.
When you are raising little kids, it is hard to imagine the day when they will take wing and fly away because they are always underfoot. And when the day comes to launch them, time seems to fade away. The deposits you made in the "Family Bank" , raising them to be independent, adventure-seeking, people-loving human beings, are now cashed out.
It's what you work for, but there is a bitter sweetness about it. The family unit you spent years creating, is forever altered, and begins to morph into something completely new. The final product is never final. It continues to change, becoming bigger than the unit you created. Still, it will never be the same as the days when there were just the five of you - living, loving, fighting, crying, laughing, saying the same family jokes over and over again.
It takes some getting used to. I suppose part of a Mother's heart never gets used to it. But, like Mary, all mothers 'take all these things and ponder [them] in [their] hearts. And sometimes it appears in a public post.
I am very proud of him. From the time his feet hit the pavement after high school, he never looked back He's lived in seven different places, became fluent in French, supported himself with various jobs, managed his finances and learned to bake REALLY large blueberry muffins in a mega-muffin tin he bought at the second-hand store. Everywhere he goes, he makes friends and influences people and proves himself as a hard-working, dependable young man with integrity at his core.
At the same time, he hasn't forgotten about us. He sent flowers last Valentine's Day. He made the effort to travel cross-country for several days to be here in time to celebrate Christmas. And he phones often enough for us to stop worrying about circumstances over which we have no control.
When you are raising little kids, it is hard to imagine the day when they will take wing and fly away because they are always underfoot. And when the day comes to launch them, time seems to fade away. The deposits you made in the "Family Bank" , raising them to be independent, adventure-seeking, people-loving human beings, are now cashed out.
It's what you work for, but there is a bitter sweetness about it. The family unit you spent years creating, is forever altered, and begins to morph into something completely new. The final product is never final. It continues to change, becoming bigger than the unit you created. Still, it will never be the same as the days when there were just the five of you - living, loving, fighting, crying, laughing, saying the same family jokes over and over again.
It takes some getting used to. I suppose part of a Mother's heart never gets used to it. But, like Mary, all mothers 'take all these things and ponder [them] in [their] hearts. And sometimes it appears in a public post.
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