I miss my son when he’s away, even if it’s only for a week spent at grandma’s during the summer. When he’s gone and the house is quiet I catch myself listening for the familiar sounds he makes when searching for a clean pair of socks or rummaging for a snack or fumbling for his house key.  I know how to help with these things and  it makes me feel good and purposeful having done it. I am his mama and as I’ve said time and time again, it is “my most important role in life.”

If I’m being honest, I would have to say that much of  my personal identity is wrapped up in being Elliott’s mom. I am a successful teacher, writer and business owner, and I’ve managed to integrate these professional endeavors into my role as parent.  I say integrate because, make no mistake, I am first-and-foremost a mom. Why aim for CEO when one can achieve the title of  Mama, the veritable source of love and caring?

I can see why people have loads of children. Being a mom allows me to feel valued and necessary.  The tending I provide to my child is also an ineffable offering to my self, which strengthens my identity as a care taker. Whew.  Why do parents tend to do too much for their children?  Because it feels sooooo good!

I have several friends who recently escorted children off to college and, as I drove my son to his first day of high school last week,  I suddenly felt keenly aware that we had just entered the final 4-year stretch before college and “real life.”  I wonder which is worse, the anxious contemplation of what life will be like when my son has flown the nest, or the actual transition which some parents have said is really quite liberating?  Right now I can only conjure anxiousness.

I recently read a wonderful story written by a mama I knew years ago when her children attended the Montessori school where I worked.  Click below to read Lakshmi’s story:

Empty Nest Leaves Her Feeling Uprooted

To share your story or pose a question to other mamas, click on the title of this post and then scroll to the bottom to add your comments.  I hope you’ll join the conversation!

Here’s to the joy and sadness, to the growth and risk and vulnerability of raising children; here’s to us, wize and courageous mamas!

Until next time,

Delila