It’s that time of year…already <3
Today our eldest and her husband are celebrating 18 years of marriage. This is something that I had to pull paper and pen out, dig into my data bank of years and verify because it did not seem possible.
But it is.
18 years is the amount of time we had with her in our home before we loaded up all the things to set up a dorm room for her. In fact we would have moved her in just a few weeks shy of that milestone birthday because school start up dates are early and cruel.
We all helped put furniture together and met the new roommate and cried our way home. And yes, she attended college on the west side of the same town as us. But she wasn’t home. She wasn’t going to come in at night and she wouldn’t be sitting around the breakfast table.
And we all grieved.
It left a hole that nothing and no one could fill and it changed our dynamics. When she came back the following summer, we all had some growing pains as we realized a fact of life. Adult children are a whole shift for everyone. There is no return to the way things were.
The first one may pave the way, but all the subsequent birds will leave the nest in a different manner and each one brings a new normal.
And so yesterday, as our church did the annual Back to School prayer moment, I was reminded of a prayer I learned as we left Sarah for her freshman year of college. She was several hours away and the ride home and subsequent weeks also involved grieving.
This prayer offered me comfort that season and comes from a “litany of prayer” type service that her college did for us as parents and students. I have the whole prayer service on a paper somewhere, of course, but the line that has carried in my heart over the years is a kind of paraphrase.
“We will say goodbye and we will grieve, each in our own way. We will give each other permission to live increasingly separate lives.”
That last phrase has been a lifeline for me as our children have all grown and flown. They are around our table for a meal, as a whole group, maybe once a year.
We rarely have Rachel at the breakfast table because they live so close. We are blessed to have the offspring of that marriage dining at our kitchen bar for breakfast more over the years…but it is becoming less as their calendars are filling up.
New seasons.
New schedules.
Increasingly separate lives.
And sometimes we allow ourselves to grieve a bit as we move into yet another new normal.
And we remember they need to have separate lives and so do we.
I love the two sided nature of this phrase.
It means that yes, we parents and grandparents have to give our children and grandchildren space to create new relationships and experiences that will affect our time with them.
But it also speaks to the offspring. As parents find new places to invest time and energy, there is a call to adapt as well.
It is a dance, this letting go and holding on.
It is a process to stay close and yet give space.
We do it together, in the bond of family love that never changes.
We make mistakes and overstep, we get our feelings hurt and we find that this ebbs and flows depending on circumstances. Some situations require a lapse in the separation, as one member of the family needs more TLC before gaining strength to move on.
I know for me, when I am feeling sidelined, that phrase comes up in my heart and I remember…we have given each other permission to grow and develop, while knowing deep down we have each other’s back when needed.
In the next few weeks, I will be praying here and there for some young parents who are sending kids across town on a bus or across the country with a u-haul. I will be remembering how it felt and I will be entrusting tender hearts to the God who made us and loves us all <3