I’m jumping off the pre Christmas crazy train. Today I ignored the palpitations I felt as I checked and double checked how few days are left until Christmas. I resisted the urge to rush to the shops to continue to buy presents.
Today I decided to just be.
Yesterday my two eldest children returned from college. I waited eagerly for them to arrive, for I find a part of me is not complete while they are away. Nothing brings me greater happiness than to sit back and watch, as my brood banter, argue and laugh together. Lying my head on my pillow, knowing they are all asleep under one roof, is the perfect end to any day.
For many years I was lost in a fog of parenting young children. No guide book yet written
prepared me for the ups and downs, the sleepless nights and the worry, not to mention, on occasions, the boredom and never ending tediousness of everyday life. No words yet written adequately describe the myriad of feelings it is possible to experience in a given day, nor the way a good night hug and kiss can erase all that was bad.
However time ticks by and those minutes we do not notice passing add up. I sang the happy birthdays and celebrated every milestone, I even welcomed them, without fully understanding that each one brought me nearer to a different time.
A time when my small children were no longer small and no longer children.
Such a time has arrived in my family. As everyone counts down to Christmas I hear the tick of my mothering clock slowing down. There is a pulling on the reins, as one of my brood begins to ready himself for leaving. In less than two weeks he’ll be gone. It is not a permanent move, but it will be many months and a plane ride before we see him again.
I have nurtured and loved with a heart and a half, encouraged my brood to become independent, to enjoy their life and live it to the full; to dream of what they want to achieve and to do what they have to, to achieve that dream.
As I prepare myself for that inevitable good bye I ponder on the twenty one years we have spent together and as part of me celebrates another part mourns.
I have done my job well, perhaps a little too well.