I am an emotionally exhausted, physically spent, battered bundle of a hot mess. Have been for weeks, longer if I am honest. This past week-ish (two) has been exceptionally overwhelming. I drove to SC to retrieve one of my offspring who had just completed her last final exam putting the period on her freshman year as a college student. She had an amazing year. Were there hiccups? Sure. The homesickness never became debilitating, the roomies were a PERFECT fit for her, she made the Dean's List, got invited to the Honor's College and her anxiety was fairly well controlled. (Apparently attitude and stubbornness aren't the only things momma handed down). As her friends helped her carry her every worldly possession from the dorm to the van I reflected on how quickly her year went and how on Earth could this baby girl already be done with her first year at college. I shook my head as I realized she will turn 20 at the end of this year. And then I cried a little. 20. How did THAT happen?? How could it be that I am mother to not one but FOUR grown humans who by the end of this year will ALL have lived two decades on this planet?!! No. Impossible. We spent the night with the first of my offspring that night. I got a little misty as I sat there watching this grown man-child relax on the couch next to his soon to be wife, in their beautiful new home, laughing at the antics of their precious little boy. The contentment with his life....the happiness in his eyes.......*sniff sniff*. The one who made me a mother is a father. Where did those years go?? Watching my second born and other member of the "Original Two" as they call themselves chase his dream.....not just chase but grab it and make it his own! Two years ago we didn't know what the next day would look like. A stroke tried to stop him. Today he is a new business owner working for himself.....teaching others how to be their personal best. He advocates for stroke awareness and has surrounded himself with some pretty amazing individuals. I choked up thinking how different life might have been if that stroke had won. There is a hint of sadness when I listen to my oldest daughter excitedly talk about moving out.....to her own apartment soon as she searches listings. Of course I am ecstatic that she is strong, independent and goal driven so there's no question she'll be fine. Yes I am proud and thankful that she is in a position with an incredible (reliable) company that offers her the income (and benefits) that will afford her the ability to live on her own. But I'll miss knowing this is her full time home. I'll miss her habit of leaving her water bottles on the counter no matter how many times I remind her. And that little boy. That sweet child she is raising......I will miss his laughter as he goes to bed at night and shouts up the stairs "night GRAMS" an thinks he's hysterical. (He is). But she's a better mother than I was at her age and she will do amazingly well. Then.....oh and then.........those two young ones who have simultaneously chosen (more like conspired) to test every patience nerve I possess by simply deciding school is not important and they have better things to do than all that stupid homework. That 14 year old girl who.....wait. She's 14. Is there really any need to say more?? But- she's 14. OMG. She will start high school in September. That tiny, fragile, weak little thing with the broken heart and lack of blood that scared me to death upon her entry into this world is going to high school. My brain just can't allow for that. And the boy. The boy who can be the funniest, sweetest young man.......who used to be those things. But that boy has gone into hiding over the last several years and I see him less often as each day passes. That boy who tests every limit of every ounce of patience I have ever had. We have struggled for so long with all the issues......and I fought for him. It took me years but I fought for him and we finally have a diagnosis and an initial plan. It's odd though. I believed that statement would somehow bring relief -- make me feel "better". Instead.....I sobbed. Relief, yes. I wasn't crazy (well, I am.....clearly- but that's not THIS post). It wasn't all in my head and his issues weren't the result of my failure as a parent. Except I DID fail as a parent. I failed to acknowledge the initial signs when maybe doing so could have minimized his struggle. I failed my own expectations of being some ridiculously unobtainable supermom. So----- I'm a mess. A hot one. All the time lately. And believe it or not I couldn't really put my finger on why! (Stop laughing). Yeah....all that stuff is a lot. Sure it can be overwhelming. But moms.....women in general....isn't that sort of what we do? Overwhelming. We overcome that crap with our eyes closed most of the time. (A happy pill or adult beverage are usually great assistants. Just saying). But really---I have a kid who's 30. Why should overwhelming have me in such a state when I've been doing this for sooooo many years. Wait. That's it. Years. Time. It's time. It's THAT time. Again. Dammit. It's Spring. Again. And with Spring comes..........
The ache. The knowledge of time passing. Missed milestones. Upcoming anniversaries.
It's funny- I end up writing something almost every Spring about how it snuck up on me again and how it affected my mood, etc. I write about how Spring means Summer isn't far behind......and with that comes August which will mean another birthday celebrated ......remembered ...... without them. Each year I talk about how it surprises me that my mood changes as the time nears. And it does. Every year. Every time it's a surprise. Yes, I know it's coming. Yes I am fully aware of the dates all year long. But I think every year when we mark the day they were born I somehow think next year won't be "as bad". That somehow time and its passage will soften that blow when the next season rolls around. It doesn't. It never will.
It's been over a decade. More than ten years. Quickly approaching eleven. That's ten birthdays already marked and this....the eleventh Spring. Soon summer will follow along and bring with it the eleventh birthday...........
And so I am a huge bundle of twisted messiness. Because it's Spring. And for as much as I spend all winter craving the sunshine I desperately wish we could somehow skip over August. As if that would clean up the mess.
