March Meme

Further to yesterday's reminiscences about Offspring the Second's visit home, this meme turned up in one of my Social Media feeds during March. It encapsulates something I think about often.

I did the best I could while the Offspring were growing up.  I am not sure it was ever Enough.  I was not the best I could be, and I was spread thin, and I did not know how (or who) to ask for help when I was overwhelmed. I wish I could have been more patient, more attentive, more... better.

I am sorry, my lovely Offspring, for the times I failed you. You have always deserved the very best. I hope that as you move through life, you find exactly what you need and what you are looking for. I think of each of you with love, always. 

Restart

 Herself speaks.

I did not mean to stop writing. 

Things got busy, and there was Stuff, and there were Feelings about Stuff, and not enough time to process the Feelings, and... now here we are.  

One of the blessings and curses, I have found, about using antidepressants, is that now there are more Feelings present, and they are felt. The days of numbness of grief and obligation are (relatively) in the rear view window -- but that means that time must now be taken to process feelings as they appear. And they are everywhere: sitting at the table or on the couch, looking back at me from the mirror, riding alongside in the car (they especially seem to love car rides). It gets very crowded. I am having difficulty naming them all, figuring out where they came from and why they are there, and finding the right space for them to occupy. Processing them? Who has the time? 

Apparently, not me. I need to make the time, though. Which is why I am here now: one of the best ways to process, for me, is to write -- and so I need to resume, for my good and for the good of all the Feelings that are wandering around bumping in to one another. 

-----

Let's look back to when we got lost and nearly dropped off the face of the earth, and start there. 

I believe it was in February when the pace of life picked up; and then March happened. I had one false start attempt to try again toward the end of March, without success. It's true that February was significantly occupied by the Orange Project, and there really is not a lot more to say about that.  So let's look at March. 

March always begins with Offspring the Second's birthday, followed in short succession by Beloved Husband's birthday.  Since this year was a milestone for Beloved Husband (sixty!), we worked on trying to get all of the Offspring back here to this desert land for the occasion.  We did not manage to have everyone here at the same time -- Offspring the First already had unchangeable plans -- but Offspring the Second came back home, for the first time in years, and we celebrated his birthday along with Beloved Husband's. Let's talk about Offspring the Second's homecoming.

 And this is why I stopped writing: I am not sure I can write about his homecoming. I'll try, though.

My heart was so full, to see him. This independent, self-confident, fully-fledged person who I raised and saw grow up, now a fantastic adult with a life of his own, with his own plans and friends and job and sphere of activities that are a mystery to me. He is the same as ever -- witty, smart, thoughtful, kind -- and yet wiser and happier than ever before. I am not really part of his life, and although I know that's ultimately the goal of every parent -- to no longer be needed -- it's heartbreaking in a way to know that he exists elsewhere and I cannot see his marvelous self more often, to enjoy the way he is and to vicariously experience his success in life. Yet this is how it should be: he has made his own life, and I am glad for it, because he seems happy. Who could ask for anything more? 

-----

The visceral love for children is an extremely painful experience, because it needs to be contained: it must not oppress the children or be wielded like a weapon.  Children must be set free into the world, unburdened by any expectations from us, or obligations to us. Be free, my children. Go forth and prosper.

My only remaining goal is that I, like my lovely Daddy before me, can somehow, quietly and in the background, make their lives easier for them. And to let them know that I am always here for them. 

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, from The Prophet

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

Thirty

 Offspring the Second has turned thirty. 

My intelligent, witty, ever so slightly sardonic, independent, handsome, wonderful son. I am so proud of the man you have become. I hope you are proud of yourself, too. The world in which you have grown into adulthood has not been an easy one, and it is increasingly difficult in this political and economic climate (not to mention in the face of global pandemic and post-pandemic difficulties).  You have made a solid life for yourself. Well done.

I hope that you continue to grow and to flourish, and that life brings you All Good Things, always. I love you so much.

Happy birthday, Offspring the Second. 

Twenty-Nine

 Offspring the Second turned twenty-nine today.

He's fully fledged, living his own life. We don't hear from him terribly often -- he's always been his own person, a Man of Few Words, so it's not surprising.  As time goes by, I find myself missing him more: his quiet wit, his thoughtfulness, the way he would be kind to the elderly pets. His encyclopedic knowledge about all sorts of things. 

He will always be Infinitely Cooler than I am. I'm OK with that. I wish I could touch upon his orbit more often, witness his life a bit more. Maybe I'll try to find a time to go visit his neck of the woods, just to see how he lives. If that's OK with him -- I don't want to intrude. 

I'm so proud of him. I hope he knows. He's such a bright shining star, an intelligent, magnificent human being.

I wish good things for you always, Offspring the Second. Happy birthday. 

Independent

 Bright, beautiful Offspring the Second has turned twenty-eight. He is independent, on his way, a fully fledged human being. We are so very proud of him. 

I miss being in the presence of his wit, his dry sense of humor, his tenderness with the pets. He is such a good egg. 

Fly, Offspring the Second, Fly. I hope all your dreams come true. 

Insured

 The other evening, Offspring the Second and I were communicating about health insurance. He is picking a new plan. We went over premiums, co-pays, co-insurances, deductibles, how to balance all the things. 

I realized: he is a fully-fledged adult. And I am so incredibly proud of him.

-----

I don't write often about Offspring the Second, because he is an extremely private person. But he launched himself into the world on his own a little more than a year ago now. He found himself a job, and another job, and an apartment, and overcame some tricky obstacles, and purchased a vehicle, and navigated vehicle insurance, and done all the grown-up things, and has flourished. He asks for nothing (even though I would happily give him anything). He is Getting It All Done, all on his own. Which, I think, was his ultimate goal when he left home.

He's so bright, so diligent, so thoughtful. So quietly observant. Witty. Delightful. I miss having him at home. Yet I am so glad that he is achieving his goals. 

My lovely young man. Well done. I hope life continues to bring you everything your heart desires. 

Pie Day

Herself speaks.

I... am struggling to find holiday spirit this year.

Perhaps it is because I am so very worn from Year 2 of the Pandemic. So little fun and so few adventures, and so much Avoiding of People and Germs. Perhaps it is the looming projects at Work that must be completed before the end of the year. Perhaps it is the forthcoming travel between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The endless tidying of the lovely bunnies, who are charming pets and who do not give a fig about me except for when I provide greenery or prevent them from destructively chewing on all the Things. 

Or perhaps it is because Offspring the Second is not here -- he is still Adventuring on his own in points Northwest, and I am happy for him that he has spread his wings and is trying new things and new places. He has always been here for Thanksgiving previously, though, I believe; so this would be the first time in over a quarter of a century that he has not been with us. Yesterday when opened the door to his room to put an item in there, I caught sight of the extremely elderly sneakers that he has worn in the house for years and years and years -- he left them here when he went forth on his Adventures. What a pang in the heart. I hope you are doing well, Offspring the Second. I miss you.

And perhaps, too, there is the echo of the few years when Cherished Friend joined us for Thanksgiving. I am happy for him, too, that he is in Oceanside, working to make his aspirations come to life. I miss his proximity, and especially his Thanksgiving kitchen companionship, very much, though. 

I have many things to be thankful for this year: the health and wellness of the people I love; all the necessities of life; a few projects I enjoy on the horizon, that give me Purpose and Meaning. It's a lot. Still, every now and then, I wish for just a tiny bit more. Does that make me ungrateful? Or perhaps it is the gratitude for things I had in the past, that is making me wistful now.

Regardless: at least there is pie. 

Adventure Awaits

 Herself speaks.

Early in the wee hours of this morning, Offspring the Second set fully into motion his carefully-thought-out plan to relocate to Another State. He contemplated his options and all the permutations, packed minimal possessions, and off he went.  

I am bereft for myself, for I had become accustomed to his presence, and his absence in the household will be large.

I am happy for him, and I hope that all his plans and dreams come to fruition, even better than he hopes.

Good luck, Offspring the Second. I love you tremendously. You are brave, and bright, and determined. You will go far.

A photo of just his taillights as they disappeared around the corner.

Best of luck in all your adventures, Offspring the Second.

A Few Words

 Herself speaks.

I don't write about the Offspring much, because they are young adults and entitled to their privacy. I wanted to take a moment, though, to say a few words about the two Offspring who are currently under the roof, since they will be moving forward to other places soon (whether it be in a week, or a month or two),  and I am feeling a bit wistful.

-----

Last night when I went upstairs to bed, Offspring the Third went upstairs at the same time. He paused as he walked by my door and said, "the hinge pin is coming out." Sure enough, it was. He turned around, disappeared back downstairs, and returned with a mallet. Tap, tap, tap. "There, all set." He tapped the other two hinge pins on the door for good measure while he was at it. Then he explained the mallet to me, how it was apparently filled with little lead pieces so that there was no bounce-back or damage to the surface. I learned something new. And then he bade me goodnight.

It is these interactions that I will miss the most when he goes back to school. He is helpful, and takes care of things that he sees need doing without my even asking (and before I even notice they need doing). He explains things in a way that is interesting and informative. It's just delightful. What a good egg he is. 

-----

This afternoon I was chatting with Offspring the Second. He's making Plans, and it's clear that he's being very thorough and thoughtful about his planning processes. He thinks of things I wouldn't have considered, and it's so helpful to hear his point of view and to look at the way things are done from another angle. He is so patient, and has been so diligently working toward his goals, despite the Pandemic being an absolute Horror Show in so many ways. 

He is so kind to the bunny trio, and so patient with the noise and the clutter of other people in the household. I try to be like him, he's a shining example of perseverance and good humor and thoughtfulness. What a good egg he is.  

-----

I know I'm biased because I am their mother, but I think that my Offspring are all genuinely lovely people. I hope they find every happiness. 

Quarter Century

Offspring the Second turned twenty-five today.

He is such a lovely person -- kind, polite, thoughtful. Impressively self-taught on the drums. Smart, witty. An old soul. A good soul.

I so enjoy listening to him when he speaks, for he always has something meaningful to say. The world is a better place, having him in it.

Happy birthday, my young man. I wish for good things for you, always.

Halloween

I'm a bit late posting the Halloween decor -- we were a bit sidetracked by Offspring the First's marriage. Offspring the Second was in charge of the Halloween decorations, and he did an excellent job.

We had a cemetery.

Spiders galore.

And grisly scarecrow holding the candy.

Well done, Offspring the Second. I do enjoy Halloween decorations, and he made everything Just Right.

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. 

Like A Postcard

Offspring the Second is in such a beautiful corner of the world right now. 

And Away

Offspring the Second is off on an exciting adventure -- two months in a different country, with a different currency and a different language. I put aside my worries about his health and safety and well-being, and hope that he has a magnificent time. 

Caterpillar

Herself speaks.

Offspring the Second turns twenty-three today. He is such a lovely person: bright, inquisitive, polite, thoughtful, kind-hearted and witty. It is always a pleasure to speak with him. When he shares his point of view with me, I see the world anew through his eyes, and I am made a better person. 

Beloved Husband sent me a few pictures of Offspring the Second's first days. In one in particular, Offspring the Second slumbers peacefully in his fuzzy green onesie, resting in my arms like a wee green caterpillar, dreaming of the day when he will be a butterfly. 

And in the blink of an eye, this once-tiny little person is grown and has transformed into an angular, delightful young man on the threshold of all sorts of wonderful possibilities. Go forth, Offspring the Second, and see where the winds of the world take you. 

I look forward to seeing where he flies. 

Bar Room

During the summer, Offspring the Second's school belongings lived in the area that is normally the wet bar in the family room. (It is an area of the house that is virtually never used; we did not miss the space once it was occupied by Things.) He has returned to Parts West now, and so, the bar is once more free.

All this empty space is rather lonely, emphasizing, as it does, the absence of Offspring the Second.

Good luck this year, our thoughtful, witty, intelligent young man. We miss you already, and will think of you often.

Tucked In

Offspring the First, speaking about Offspring the Second:

"I can always tell when he has been downstairs, because there's a frying pan on the stove, and Tio is tucked under a blanket."

Ah, tender-hearted Offspring the Second. Elderly three-toothed dog is no doubt grateful for your ministrations. 

A Score Plus Two

Dignified, reserved, clever, and ever-so-intelligent Offspring the Second turns twenty-two today.

How time flies.

He is such a lovely and thoughtful person; under his quiet exterior is a razor-sharp wit and a tender heart. It is a pleasure to spend time with him on those rare occasions when he is here. His is a quiet light -- but it always shines.

Happy birthday, Offspring the Second. May the Universe bring you All Good Things, Always.

Snacks

Herself speaks.

Offspring the Second is returning to college this weekend. Alas. It has been a pleasure to have him home. He is so very bright, and it is so very interesting to speak with him: he considers his point of  view carefully, always, and presents his arguments in a cohesive, cogent manner, whether we are discussing minutiae or Big Picture topics. I admire his way with words.

He is such a marvelous person. It's a privilege to know him.

This afternoon, we went to the store for snack foods for the trip. Ah, snack foods -- some of the small yet delightful pleasures in life. There is something that always feels bittersweet about snack foods to me, perhaps because there were years when we would go on family trips in the RV, and I was very careful to pick snack foods that I thought each person would particularly enjoy. Now, I so rarely have that opportunity, and the moments are becoming more and more scarce as the Offspring grow up and away.

Alas, for snack foods.