A long embrace and a quick murmured, “Love you. Take care of yourself,” and he was gone. My firstborn, who has always marched to his own drumbeat, is moving on with his life. Although I am extremely grateful for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that awaits him in New York City and for the fact that he is not moving out of the country, I allow myself to experience the bittersweet feelings that stir within.
With less than four adrenaline-fueled days to adjust to the idea of him leaving and to tie up loose ends here, I didn’t have time to sit, feel, and acknowledge the rumblings of my heart and brain until now. My brain confirms all the positive aspects of this transition, but my heart stubbornly refuses to let go of that last bit of apron string tied to him. I remind myself that he is following his dream, something that I endlessly supported. But in this mother’s mind, at this moment in time, I can’t help but think that this wonderful opportunity is carrying him far away from home and family. His hard work and perseverance paid off. He held fast to his dream even when his life didn’t go according to plan – when life’s zigs and zags carried him their unpredictable ways. How could I not be happy for him now?
In reality, he’s not lived at home for a while, but he’s always lived in the same state as the rest of the family. As he heads to the opposite coast, I take comfort in the marvel of today’s technology, which will help to appease my motherly worries. I worry about this son of mine because he has a different approach to life than my other children and because things seem to happen to him that don’t happen to the others.
His decision to drive across the country with his girlfriend rather than fly, a decision that baffled many, did not surprise me. I asked him why he wanted to drive for five days and arrive at his new job road-weary and tired. I asked him why he wanted to drive a car that already has 150,000 miles on it and risk it breaking down in the middle of nowhere. I asked him why he was making things so complicated. He told me calmly, “It’s only complicated to you, Mom.” And then he added, “In my line of work, you draw on life’s experiences for ideas.” I understood what he was telling me. It’s my fault, I thought to myself. Throughout the years I reminded my children about “life being a journey and not a destination.” It’s no wonder that they yearn to do more, see more, and experience more.
For three decades my identity has been wrapped up with my children. It’s inevitable that as they transition, so must I. With one child moving away and another getting married in a few months, the focus of my life must shift away from them. It is only natural. My time is coming again. My children’s growth and good fortune affords me the time and energy to fulfill more of my life’s dreams. It is now abundantly clear to me, that my children are not the only ones moving on.
What about this? 
Linell, you are sooo good at expressing your feelings! this is so sweet, it IS so hard to let go,your right we have taught them all of their lives that they can do what ever they put their minds to. We encourage them to follow their dreams and their hearts and then we have a tough time when they do.I am sure you are proud of him for this change in his life. Seems like life changes all the time! Of course you can give your son my # if he needs anything. Keep smiling,love, Eileen
The marvel is that we created individuals, that they think for themselves, and are separate from us. The comfort is that what you modeled and instiiled over all of these years, is what they carry with them into the next generation. They are a source of wonder – always. Mom love is a strong force. Congrats to Adam and to his parents.
Laurie
Thanks Linnell, for your eloquence in putting to paper all those thoughts in my head, as my kids travel farther and farther away from their “mom tether”…
Linnell
Beautiful sentiments.
Dad and I had the same exact feelings years ago, tho not expressed in such a warmhearted way, but felt it nevertheless. For you and Jeff, you both have qualities of deserving an A+ for parenting skills. (Of course, that only came from us)
So to our children, grandchildren, and soon a great grandchild, know this:
wherever you are, near or far, you’re in our hearts, and don’t forget, we’ll always leave a light on for you. Love, Nanny and Pa
How lucky for me that you chose to share your thoughts right now. Matt is graduating from college tomorrow. It’s the first time I’ve ever really felt the bitter sweetness of something. He’s moving into new territory where I’ll have less and less input, less and less contact. When he was born, I played the song “First Born Son” to him over and over again as I rocked him to sleep. It’s by the McGarrigle Sisters. Here’s a sample:
The silver spoon’s in the mouth
Baby clothes are baby-blue
Nothing’s ever handed down
Everything’s brand new
He’s the first to creep and the first to crawl
The first to walk and the first to fall
Every bruise is kissed, every cry is heard
Every doubt’s cast out with a soothing word
That first born son, that son of a gun
Just hates to walk, just loves to run
He loves to run as fast as he can
With life held tight in the palm of his hand
Hi Gina – Thanks for the comment! It seems many moms (and dads) share our feelings. Thanks also for sharing the lyrics to the McGarrigle Sisters’ song First Born Son. The lyrics are spot on!