When They Leave the Nest; Raising Children

I've spent what seems like my entire adult life raising my children.

When my two boys were born, they filled a gap in my life that I otherwise would have never known was missing.

When my two boys were one & three years old, I left their father and traveled from Maui, back to California, where I was grew up. The three of us got a little apartment and started a new life.

We were like the three musketeers, inseparable, and buddies till the end. Life was an adventure and I was the captain. I raised them, nurtured them, bandaged their knees, pulled bee stings out of their toes, wiped their tears.

...and I have been their tree, for them to climb up, hang on to, and to sit under, through thick and thin.

What I never realized though, is that I have always depended on my boyz, just as much as they depend on me. They have been my comfort, my salvation, my sanity, my insanity, my love, and inspiration.

When my oldest son moved out, it was a really difficult adjustment for me. But it didn't really seem permanent. I must have been in denial, because his absence didn't sink in, or affect me until about six months after he moved out.

But since then. I have stayed awake endless nights worrying about him. They say silence is golden, but I beg to differ. For any mother, the silence of their child, however momentary, is like an eternity.

...in less than a month, and I am pretty much beside myself. I have found myself lately, hanging on to his every word, following his every move and tracking him via text. We are now up to an average of 25 texts a day. I don't know if he has noticed or not, but I try to be casual about it, without his knowing how obsessed I've gotten with him.

I realize that when he graduates, he's not going to sprint out the front door the next day, but I know that graduation represents the beginning of the rest of his life. As his mother, I worry about his every move, his future, and the choices that he will be making soon, without consulting me, or without getting my permission to do so.

I guess, I took their childhood for granted, not taking into account that there would be an end to it. In my eyes, they are still five years old, and it would satisfy me as much if that were truly the case. But as it stands, I no longer have full control of their lives, and I must relinquish myself to the fact that all children, including my own, will always grow up.

However, I keep reminding myself that although their lives are just starting, and they have so much adventure ahead of them, that I will always remain their mother. I will always nurture them, offer advice, and listen to them.

And throughout the rest of my life, they will always be my sons. And that is the most satisfying thing in the whole wide world. Maybe now I can settle down a little and perhaps start living vicariously through them. The world is at their feet. May they always be protected when they need it the most, and always think of their mom throughout their lives.