Yesterday while I was driving to Boston, I heard a song I had never heard before. Now before you click Google and look up the title, read on.
I was on way to Boston from New York for the third time in as many days. I had my youngest child enrolled in Vet School for a few weeks and she had taken ill with what would be a very serious Coxsackie Herpangina A virus.
As a parent, I wasn’t allowed to see her for that is a major rule for resident students and stood in the wings of RA’s, nurses and time to just wait it out. I didn’t know just how bad she was and if she would make it through the course. Dee had been waiting to attend this college experience for five months.
I never listen to the radio, but this day I needed to drown out the worry that was clouding my mind. Then as quick as that, the song was playing.
Then They Do
Its about a husband’s perspective regarding his wife and mother of his children and how she was devastated by their children moving on. The quiet house. The lack of need for their mother.
In that moment and for how long I really don’t know, my lifelong 30 years of being a parent flashed before me in waves. I saw that I’ve spent over two physical years in a hospital room taking care of my oldest child. I saw my joy and excitement as I loaded a plane to Washington state to see my son and just seconds later the sobs in that same plane on the way back to New York after just spending 28 hours with him.
Lastly I saw my youngest in pain, laying on my stomach crying because she couldn’t swallow and wailing that she couldn’t miss Vet School. I remember then listening to the history of the song as told by the singer and thought of how the power of your children can make and break you.
I wasn’t sure why I thought of sad times rather than happy until I was unpacking my suitcase in my third hotel. The very best thing I’ve ever done in my life were the three children I had to let go. My house will too be empty of noise, name calling and the giggle of my kids soon enough.
I will be lost.
Each one of my children have taught me that they too have been lost and I was there to try and get them in a place where they felt “found” . I am a better care giver, and still learning every day about my kids. Just maybe they will help me find myself again when they fly.
Darien, by the way, is on the mend and in Vet School and I’m letting her go a little at a time. This one is my hardest because she is my last.
Next year she will most likely be gone the entire summer exploring her dreams and as sad as I will be, I will always be her mother.