Thirty-two

 Offspring the First has turned thirty-two.  Where has the time gone? 

You are a ray of sunshine, a tender and thoughtful heart, a kind warmth to all you encounter. You are out there in the big world now, and I hope that the world is not too much for you, because the world is cold and can be cruel. But you create your own bubble of light wherever you go, and that may be enough to protect you. I wish for the best of everything for you, always. 

Go forth in joy for your next year, Offspring the First. I love you so much. Happy birthday. 

The Things We Carry

 Herself speaks.

Offspring the First and her charming husband were in town over the weekend, and we were able to see them briefly for a bit. It was lovely, as always, to see her and her smiling face. Offspring the Third was there as well, and it was reassuring to see him too, as always, and delightful to have the two of them in the same room together. There was an Offspring the Second-shaped hole in the room; I have missed his presence so much, and am trying to walk the line of respecting his independence and freedom, while still wanting to reach out and encourage him to come home for a bit to ease the ache of his absence. 

I don't know when I will have all three of the Offspring together in the same room at the same time again. I try not to think about it. The weight of that unknown future can be a heavy grief for me if I allow it to grow in my heart, but I will not do so. It is important to be glad for the Offspring as they move forward with their unique lives, and not to try to hold them back out of any sort of obligation. 

I will not ask the Offspring to help me carry my own feelings. That would be unfair to them. They should be Free.

Fly, Offspring, fly.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. 

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. 

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

-Kahlil Gibran, On Children

Visit

 Item two: Beloved Husband and I visited Offspring the First and her Beau.  They are doing well.  It's nice to see them together -- they seem so happy, have such nice communication, and seem so happy with each other.  It's refreshing, in this jaded world, to see.  I hope that they continue to grow and flourish together. 

Thirty-One

 Lovely Offspring the First has turned thirty-one.  She is so sweet, so tender-hearted. Introspective, a lover of words and of Meaning, kind. I wish for the very best for her, always. 

The world is your Oyster, beautiful One. Go forth and conquer. We love you, always. 

TinyBun

This weekend, we worked on tidying the garage. (A monumental task, to be sure.) This included weeding some bins that contained old stuffed animals -- such as this wee tiny bun.  Rabbits have, in fact, long been a theme in the house.

So cute.

New Adventures

Today, I left Offspring the First at the airport, along with two suitcases that combined likely weighed more than she does, and off she went to Brand New Shiny Adventures. 

She's flying away from the Nest. 

We wish good things for you Always, Beautiful Child. Fly free and find all the marvelous places and peoples and adventures! 

First

 My lovely firstborn turns thirty today. Where has the time gone? 

Milestones can be tricky, because the temptation is to look critically at yourself and judge yourself based on Society's Expectations for what you should have, what you should be doing, how you should be running your life. 

Remember this, though: you have obligations to no one except yourself. If you try to take care of yourself, and to make your corner of the world a slightly better place -- that will always be more than enough. You are already doing these things, and you are therefore succeeding. You are a lovely, tender-hearted, thoughtful person, and your smile lights up the room when you walk in. Who could ask for anything more? 

And remember to ask yourself: Are you trying to figure out your dreams and your goals? Are you doing your best to be true to yourself, to be kind to yourself, to do what you can, every day? And are you remembering that on some days, "doing your best" will be just getting through the day? 

See? So much success.

You are loved beyond measure. You are valued for your existence in this world. Go forth, and be loud and take up space and ask for what you need and what you want. You are deserving of all good things, always.

Happy birthday, Offspring the First. 

A Grogu Valentine

For Offspring the First. Just because. 

LICK

Exploring

Lovely Offspring the First has completed another trip around the sun. How can it be, that I have an Offspring who is twenty-eight years old? I still feel twenty-something inside, myself. 

It has been a long hard year: for her birthday last year, we were all in Lockdown. This year, things are slowly opening up -- yet caution is still very much warranted. She has indicated that she is the only one among her friends and coworkers who has not yet caught COVID. We would like to keep it that way. 

Offspring the First, you are so kind and thoughtful, and you try so hard. It is unfair that you have to make your way through this Pandemic, when you should be able to explore the world freely. I wish for so much more for you. 

Stay the course, beautiful child. I wish for all Good Things for you, always. And I am here for you, should you ever be in need.

Home for the Holidays

 The holidays are, expectedly, a bit strange this Pandemic year.

In lieu of the annual family get-together, we drove around on Christmas eve and dropped things off for people, chatting only briefly, masked, outside on the porches. It was mostly fine, and fairly brief, and it was a welcome break from social gatherings.

The hard parts:

1. Knowing it was not safe to hug my daughter, because she is in her own household and regularly encounters the imported medical personnel who are here in our city to help with the Pandemic. That realization was an unexpectedly difficult pang, and I still ache. Stay safe and well, Offspring the First. My heart is with you, from six feet away.

2. My lovely mother-in-law sending a text to me, to ask whether Cherished Friend would be coming "Home" to this desert land for Christmas. She is so kind, keeping him in her prayers and considering him a member of the family. I'm grateful. Alas, no, I told her, he would not be here for the holidays since it is not safe to travel between Here and There because Pandemic. 

I didn't have the heart to tell her that I suspect that the times he will be out in this desert land will be few and far between henceforth. (It might still be too hard for me to admit it to anyone except myself.)

Paths have diverged. Cherished Friend is Oceanside, and it is the right place for him. It may, eventually, become Home for him, unlike this desert land which never was truly Home. 

I hope for the best for him, Always. 

Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark. ― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

Copyright 2020, Mediocria Firma.

All rights reserved. Used with gratitude.

Villi Pilli

Offspring the First sent a photo by text, commenting: I found this pillow made of villi.

Indeed she did! Would plural be villi pilli?

A little science humor delights me, especially when it is offered by the Offspring. 

27

Herself speaks.

Offspring the First has turned twenty-seven.  It is a weird time to have a birthday, what with Social Distancing and Fear of Plague and whatnot. We could not get together for pizza and birthday cake. I am sad. She seems fine -- she is sanguine about the State of the World, doing her best to keep her head above water, to keep on keeping on.

She is such a lovely, warm, witty person. So strong on the inside. I am so proud of her. I wish for better for her than this current state of Pandemic, and look forward to the days in the future when things are more settled, and she can continue to make her dreams come true.

Keep flying, sweet bird. There will be flowers and fair skies. Never fear. You are tremendously loved, always.

 

Fly Away

Herself speaks.

Yesterday evening at the gathering following Offspring the First's courthouse marriage to her beloved, every single person whom I met, when they learned that I am Offspring the First's mother, exclaimed what a lovely person she is: her friends, her coworkers, her new in-laws, each of them in turn extolling her virtues, speaking about her with such kindness on their faces and such warmth in their voices. Such joy.

One of her friends showed me some photographs from earlier in the evening, when Offspring the First was getting ready: in her hotel room, Offspring the First in her bathrobe drying her hair, the dress hanging ready for her.  Such ordinary-extraordinary pictures. And my heart cracked a little bit. She is so radiant, so beautiful, so full of life and happiness. So loved.

Offspring the First's world is moving away from mine, faster and faster. I am but a tiny part of her life now, and my role is ever smaller. Though I know this is how it should be -- our ultimate goal as mothers is to make ourselves unnecessary as we launch our offspring into the world -- it still pains me. So bittersweet. I hope that she is always surrounded by such grace and love.

Fly, my beautiful child. I wish for you all good things, always.

.

Nuptial Hands

Herself speaks.

My lovely daughter married a lovely man today. I wish them tremendous happiness, always.

Twenty-six (plus one)

We took Offspring the First out to dinner today, the day after her twenty-sixth birthday.  She readily donned the unicorn headband of celebration for the event. So funny. 

She is a lovely, kind, bright, shining soul. Happy birthday, Offspring the First - we wish all good things for you, always.

Lapdog

Offspring the Third arrived home yesterday for spring break. Whoopee! This evening, we invited Offspring the First and her beau over to the house, and we were joined by Offspring the Second as well.

All the Offspring, under the roof. Lovely.

Tiny Dog did not know what to do with herself -- so many of her favorite people, ALL IN THE SAME ROOM AT THE SAME TIME. She ran back and forth, accepting tiny pieces of the pizza from everyone, and then threw her toys around exuberantly, before wearing herself out and settling into Offspring the Third's lap for a bit of a rest. She and I both listened to all of them, with their banter and their witticisms and their good humor. 

It warms my heart, to have all the Offspring in the same room. I love them so. 

Quarter

Herself speaks.

Offspring the First -- witty, kind, charming, lovely -- turns twenty-five today. A quarter century. It was her arrival that bestowed on me the title of "mom," and it has been an honor to help her grow into the person she is today.  Congratulations, Offspring the First, on achieving this milestone, and on your valiant efforts to make your way in this complex world in which we live. 

A quarter century ago, I, too, was twenty-five. Though that was a lifetime ago for Offspring the First, I nevertheless remember so much of it clearly still. Perhaps it was somehow just yesterday, or last week. Or perhaps, it is because Offspring the First has had such a profound impact on our world -- making us a family for the first time --  that all of those young memories have been etched clearly,  forever.

I wish for you, Offspring the First, a clear and well-lit path into the future, full of joy and successes both large and small. We love you. Godspeed, and onward!

Au Revoir

Herself speaks.

I got up at 4:45 to take lovely Offspring the First to the airport. (She was scheduled to work in the afternoon of the 26th.)  It is always bittersweet, to send her off. Her brothers enjoyed her company so much over the holiday (as did I and Beloved Husband.) 

Safe travels, Offspring the First. We will see you again soon.

Flower

Offspring the First surprised us with a visit this week. HUZZAH. We have missed her bright shining self.

We got her a flower. 

It might be just big enough.