Sweet Imagination

I am mom to two boys.  One is already an adult at the age of 20 and the other is soon to be an adult at nearly 17.  Its been a long time since I experienced the sweetly innocent imagination of a child, but this week I smiled and found myself inspired by just that.

One of my cousins Sam, on my dads side, has two very beautiful children. Her youngest, a little girl named Charlie (after my grandfather Charlie).  To see the pictures of Charlie and her brother Gavin are so much fun.  You can tell that they enjoy life and their mom delights in her role as their loving and nurturing caregiver. This week the following story was posted on Facebook and it brightened my day:

 

On our way home, at Detroit Wayne airport, we were walking to our gate. As we are doing so Charlie stops and goes, "uh", and refuses to move, staring at the floor. I ask her what she's doing. She replies, "peter pan found Charlie. I love him"

You see, what was happening was due to the lighting in that area, multiple shadows of herself were being cast on the ground at her feet. She legitimately believed one was hers, the other peter pans, which she then pointed out to me. Oh the minds of little children. Thank you Sam and my Disney obsession for giving us moments such as this.

 

What is more amazing than the ability to believe? I dare say...NOTHING.  Sweet Charlie saw that shadow and without hesitation or doubt simply BELIEVED.   She knew in her heart that she only had 1 shadow and therefore the second was Peter Pan and he was with her and she loved him.  Simple and sweet, unfettered innocence.

I miss the days of imagination and whimsy in my children, but even more, in myself.  Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all stop, every so often, and just enjoy and appreciate the imaginative and whimsical world around us?  Throw off the weight of bills and taxes, work and health issues. Get rid of the newspaper headlines and nightly news reporting on the travesties taking place all around the world. Just give in to that side of ourselves we lost somewhere around middle childhood.

I can't exactly remember when I lost the ability to immerse myself in imagination, nor can I remember at what point my own children shifted. What I do know. is that at some point the ability to simply believe in the unbelievable vanished and everything had to be explained with logic and reason.

Well I say pffft, and pish posh to all that. I want to go back under the veil and into a world where anything is possible if you just believe.  I know, reality dictates I must pay the rent and the electricity, and I have always been responsible, but at the end of the day when all is taken care of, I am checking out and you can find me once again in Neverland. See you there.

Emptying the nest........

 

I have been mom for nearly 21 years.  Longer than that if you count the 9 months I carried my oldest son.  Being mom has been the biggest and most important part of my identity for so long, that I am realizing it's going to be quite the shift for me to rediscover and invent a new me.

Brandon moved out into his first apartment last week, and it was harder than I thought it would be.  Leading up to the move, I was all helpful and instructive.  Typical mom stuff.  But at the end of the day when we were all done and sat down together at Round Table to have a little Pizza for dinner after a long hard day of moving, it hit me.   When we parted ways after dinner, he would be going 'HOME".  Not to my home, the only home he ever knew, but to "HIS HOME". His place, his space. And the damn broke and tears started slowly trickling down my cheeks. I tried to silently sturdy myself and smile, but everyone noticed anyway. Brandon, reassured me that he would visit and stop by often and that he loved me,  but in the moment all I could feel was panic.

I know that being 'Mom" never ends. I trust that my children will always need me in some way or other, but my role was shifting, and as proud as I was, I was also sad, and like any mom, worried.  Who would make sure he took the dishes out of his bedroom and into the kitchen?  Who would make sure the dishes got cleaned and put away. Who would clean the bathroom? Who would make sure he ate and had clean clothes to wear. Who would wake him up for work and school and remind him to do his homework? The answer to everything became "he would".

I have spent 21 years preparing him to be an adult, to start his own life and build his own future and the starting gun just went off.  On your Mark..Get set...Go. His journey is just beginning while a part of mine draws to a close.

I have one child left and only a handful of time  before he too starts his journey.  My marathon is coming to an end and I'm not clear on what comes next.

Can Jeff and I find things to fill the emptiness in my heart and home? I think so...he has committed and promised to help me through it. But I feel a little lost directionally. Right or left...North is South and East is West.  I know there are great adventures left to be experienced, but even with all the warning we get as young mothers that someday they will leave....I don't think we are ever truly prepared.  Maybe  we are not supposed to be. If it was easy to let go, then what kind of mother would I be?

No matter what path they take, all I can do is make sure my sons know, that I am always here for them. All they need do is ask.

My nest is one bird shy today and soon it will be empty. Its inevitable and scary but really makes me proud too.