Tag Archive for Parenting

Life and Time

This week I will have another birthday. Click off another year of living. I love my life. I know it will go by much too quickly.  In my professional life I have worked with death and dying a good bit. In my personal life, I have buried several cousins, all of my grandparents, my mother, and my father. Life is always shorter than we imagine it will be and I keep this consciously in mind every day. I make choices based on this reality.  This is in many ways the greatest gift that working with grief has given me, the power to live with that knowledge. I do not see it as morbid and it does not depress me, but it does change me.

This week is I will have another birthday, my 40th to be precise.  That sounds old to my mind. I count the years that have gone by since high school and am amazed to note that it has been 23 years. That is more years than I was old when I graduated. I can remember talking with friends about “the year 2000” and how old we would be by then. It seemed a million years away.

This week my youngest daughter had her last elementary school musical. In preparation for the musical we had to make a trip to the store to get her ‘girl clothes.’ Tomboy that she has always been, she had nothing that would suit the dress requirements. I discovered that she no longer can shop in the girl’s section. Her body has started to change, she is filling out, and she has gotten so tall. Now she has to wear clothes from the junior’s section. She fussed about not wanting a dress, then fell in love with a cute little pair of boots and transformed into a teeny little pre-teen clamoring for very girly things.

This week my middle daughter got her hair cut and figured out how to make her eyes even more stunning with makeup than I had ever thought they could be. During the fore mentioned shopping trip, she found a great little shirt she wanted to try on.  It was low cut and form fitted around woman sized breasts. I told her it wouldn’t fit and she bet me it would. It did fit. She has suddenly got woman sized breast.

This week my oldest daughter put on her formal concert gown for band and magically transformed into a beautiful woman.  Stunning. Simply stunning. Hips, boobs, hair a model would kill for. She has a woman’s face now. Her cheeks are narrow, her chin delicate.

I held my Master’s hand tightly during the musical. Sitting on the cafeteria benches at the same elementary that my older daughters went to.  Listening to the same songs they sang during their own fifth grade performances. Tears came to my eyes and I gripped tighter.  I could see in my mind’s eye my 50th birthday year. All of them grown. All of them outside of my grasp. Beyond my womb, my embrace, my home. Off into their lives. I clung to his hand knowing his hand would still be there holding mine in that not so distant future.

I love my life. I know it will go by much too quickly.

When you think you are all grown up

Isn’t it interesting how just when you think you’ve grown up, you grow.

I remember when I was first a mother. I was terrified of being responsible for whole entire little person. All I could think about was a pressing desperate need to grow up. I needed to grow the hell up and right fucking now.

I sat in the hospital room in the middle of that first night looking down at the tiny wrinkly little face of my sleeping newborn son. I was eighteen and had not quite managed to grow out my mo-hawk yet. I was trying, I wanted to be whatever it was that I needed to be in order to be everything he would need. After a few years, I had the sense that I had grown up. The baby was a little boy who was happy and had clean shoes to muddy whenever his little playful heart wanted. I had grown, but I was not all grown up.

After several more children and a long drawn out abusive marriage, I divorced their Dad and put myself into college. Single mom with four young kids, making my way in the big bad world. I remember thinking in the middle of the night while they lay asleep in their little beds that I had grown up at long last. Again, it turned out I had grown but not all the way up.

A few years later, after finding the kink community I had wonderful and crazy and not-what-I-thought-they-would-be encounters with others. I had moved into a place of feeling in control of my sexuality. I was lusty and lush and lavish with my body and my time. I loved and was loved and drank in so much that I nearly drown. I remember sitting in my bedroom, still salted with sweat, several lovers asleep in my bed with their snores harmonizing. I thought to myself, now I am truly grown up. I am a woman in control of her life, her passions, and her future. I was, of course, wrong. I had grown but I was not grown up.

Then I found myself constantly fetching coffee for and walking a quiet step behind this amazing man. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to be anything he would be pleased by. I cried myself to sleep when he wouldn’t let me iron his clothing. By some odd twist of fate, he chose to take ownership of me. To be my everything. He collared me, branded me, and finally married me. I remember laying in his bed after awakening from a bad dream and feeling his fist wrapped firmly in my hair. Even as he slept, he held me fast in his grip. I thought I had indeed grown up. I thought I was complete. As always, I was wrong. I have grown, but I am not yet grown all the way up.

Each day I find new growth. Friendships blooming around me. Children themselves growing and bringing new joys and challenges. New growth and deeper roots. I feel strong and whole now when I think of this growing. I am pleased to know I am not yet complete. I am happiest when I am changing while always remaining myself.