As I watched these moms rousing their sleepy children, giving them breakfast, and getting them on their way, I was struck by a cascade of feelings I haven't been aware of for a long time - I miss my kids. And more than that, I miss caring for them.
I became a mom at a very young age and kind of grew up with them. I have spent all of my adult life being a mom, and while I obviously still am, it is not the same.
My children are now 34, 29 and 27, and they are doing what they're supposed to be doing - successfully and happily living their lives on their own and away from me. I console myself by saying this is how parenting is supposed to work - they are together and happy and don't need me the way they once did. This is good. I know it's good. I keep telling myself it's good. But if it's so good, why does it sometimes feel so bad?
We all like to feel needed, and as a mom I am no different. I sometimes really miss the day to day life with them, and all that family time. So now I fill that need by caring for them when they come home to visit, making sure I bake the cookies, make the eggs, (Dylan) the chicken, stuffing and broccoli, (Ben) and have the rice and kimchi (Emma) that makes them feel like they're home. It doesn't happen as often as I'd like, so I try to appreciate every second when it does.
As much as I love being a writer, and do embrace the freedom I now have to spend my days working on my career goals, nothing, absolutely nothing will ever mean as much to me as raising and loving my kids. It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but I would not have missed it for anything.
No comments:
Post a Comment