Of all my jobs and roles, being a mother has been the most rewarding and challenging.
I have four children spanning from three young adult boys to a little girl just starting school. My fallibility is real and the lessons have guided me to grow with each child and every year.
As parents and children there are lessons we receive and give that we do not realize until they show up and prove their existence.
My boys taught me what it is to be a mother, but my daughter propelled me to discover what it is to truly be a woman.
One morning I woke up and the close relationship I had with my boys became a distant acquaintance-ship I no longer recognized.
This past Monday my 18-year-old son left to begin the process of boot camp in the Marines. It’s taken weeks to process what this means to me for so many complex reasons. It wasn't just saying goodbye to my son, it was a flash of all we have experienced in our relationship from the start and what potentially will come next for our dynamic.
The heavens smiled on me and gave me another chance to accept the gifts I have been given and to raise a woman who would take the world by storm. Each day I look at her I know that in her short four-year lifetime she has taught and continues to teach me infinite wisdom about the world and spirituality.
When they were little I was their world, their rock and the number one woman in their lives. Mama could solve problems, heal hurts and they would be content indulging me in my interest as they learned to be well-rounded men one day. How did we go from the innocence of an infant to the anger and resentment of teenagers? No one prepares you for how tough some roots are to take hold and that not all wings are built to fly.
After seventeen years of marriage to a semi-narcissist and covertly manipulative man, whom I was convinced I loved, I left. I woke up one day and realized I no longer cared for him. Made a plan and walked away, never to look back. It would have been an easy break mentally, emotionally and physically if we didn’t have children.