An Epiphany of Sorts

I haven’t been posting or writing very much in the past few weeks.  First, there was the usual end-of-school busyness (this time on steroids because JT was also graduating).  Then there were celebrations and a week of family in town.  Then JT left town for a week, the first of three trips he’ll make this summer before he goes to college on August 19.  It isn’t as if I have nothing to say; quite the reverse, in fact.  But my feelings felt like they need to be kept in check lest they overwhelm or cripple me.  

For my whole life, I’ve wanted to be a mother.  When I became pregnant at the age of 32, it felt like an amazing miracle of science.  I was thrilled.  Being a mama hasn’t always been easy, especially the years of being a mama-on-her-own, but motherhood was nearly always the joy I expected.  I relished every stage as JT grew up.  I ultimately chose a career that made it easier to be a parent and though I sometimes grumbled, I always liked being a mama.  From little league games and mother’s day tea to 8th grade plays and cross country championships to every school event in between, I was there.  And then I did the laundry, made supper, and headed off to the next event.  I was sometimes exhausted, but I always liked it.

The next chapter of life promises to be different.   JT will be 180 miles north of home and he won’t rest his head in my house every night.  I’ve carefully accumulated the bedding to feather his nest with the pleasing thought that I am making plans to keep him rested and cozy as he makes this transition.  T and I will head off for the weekends to watch him run as often as we can, but there will also be time for our own adventures.  I think things will be less frantic for us.  I’m still wrapping my mind about what it all means.

Unless you count Lucy squawking her displeasure (and I don’t), this last week has been quiet at my house.  There has been less laundry and the house is clean; supper is served when I’m ready to make it.  T and I have had conversations with no interruptions.  I’ve been busy and happy and my text exchanges with JT have been funny and frequent enough to please an anxious mama.

I don’t quite know what I  expected, but it’s been fine.  Nice, even.  I thought of this as I refashioned a bouquet and placed it in an antique Mason jar on the radiator cover in the front window.  I haven’t placed bouquets in this place in this house and I was wondering why when I realized that for years, there was a busy and indelicate boy running around and slamming the doors.  Glass jars with flowers located in vulnerable places seemed unwise.

But now it is safe for glass jars to be in vulnerable places.  And while that’s different than the happiness of being a full-time mama, it is happy.  I expect that this next chapter will still have some bumps (and tears).   But for now, I’m more excited than anxious and that’s a nice place to be.