Facebook is filled with posts and images of children transitioning from one stage in life to another. There are the little ones who are going to pre-school for the first time. Their moms’ are both excited and nervous. Then there are the new middle schoolers and high school students. Perhaps the most touching of all are the young men and women who are going away for college. Their mamas are remembering the times that they held their babies in their arms and when they folded their baby clothes. Suddenly without warning childhood has ended and the babies are ready to spread their wings and work toward becoming totally independent from their parents. I sometimes wonder if the uncertainties of leaving home are more difficult for the mothers than they are for the young people who see the unknown as a well earned adventure. Life is suddenly very different and no matter how well everyone has prepared for the changes, they take all by surprise.
I remember driving my eldest daughter, Maryellen, to the University of Texas in Austin. At first I kept busy helping her set up her dorm room but when it came time to drive away and leave her on campus my heart almost burst open. I hid the tears that were forming in my eyes until Mike had driven far enough away that she would not see. Then the dam that had been holding back my emotions burst. I sobbed for at least an hour. I couldn’t imagine how I was going to wake up each morning and not see her face or go to sleep each night not knowing that she was safely tucked in. I eventually adjusted just as all parents do. I understood that it was in her best interests to begin to move away from me. Her confidence in her own abilities was proof that I had done a good job as a parent. It is the nature of life for our young ones to slowly but surely progress into their adult roles. If my daughter had never left my home I would have had more to worry about than when she made that important leap into the adult world. Nonetheless, those first days and weeks and months without Maryellen in my home were some of the most distressing of my life. As a good mom I of course never let her know just how emotional I was feeling. Continue reading “Transitions”
I once drove through a neighborhood and spotted an obviously abandoned house whose walls were literally covered with a sprawling bougainvillea plant that had grown out of control. The blooms were a magnificent deep wine color and they were winding around the crumbling wooden structure in profusion. What should have been a dreary scene of a long neglected property was instead a glorious feast for the eyes. I’ve often thought about that lovely image and seen it as a kind of metaphor for life’s difficulties. It seems that the more stressed a bougainvillea vine becomes the more beautiful and hardy are its flowers. The bougainvillea is a determined survivor often flourishing in the harshest of environments.
A small group of people from my high school class have begun to explore ideas for our fiftieth reunion. Where does the time go? Surely it was only yesterday when we sat inside the gym on Mt. Carmel Drive while our family and friends watched us graduate from our youth into the world of adults. I’m certain that each of us quietly dreamed about the future. I know that I was convinced that I would do something extraordinary. Of course I had little idea what that might be beyond a superficial understanding of what it really means to be more than just ordinary. Back then my thoughts involved fame, wealth, distinction. Mine was a vague picture of an existence that would stand out from the humdrum. 
I have a rather sassy granddaughter. She reminds me much more of my mother and mother-in-law than of myself or my daughters. I suppose that I secretly enjoy that she is so much more willing to assert herself than I ever was. I spent most of my childhood and teenage years being quiet and polite and even a bit repressed. I was truly afraid to be the person that I wanted to be or to express the opinions that rattled inside my brain. My granddaughter doesn’t even come close to being like that. 
All It Takes Is A Little Love 