Today there is no bright play of light on the leaves dancing outside the window. Only movement and sound under the cloudy skies. Everything is fluttering in the wind; I can hear the wind chimes Dad made for me, the bell outside my office door. It’s an interesting combination, the sombre grey and the whirling green. I can feel the rain coming. Weather like this always makes me think of pancakes. On wintery afternoons we’d often come back from school to Mom frying pancakes for our lunch. The smell of them always makes me think of the sweetness of knowing you are loved and welcomed home.
I have been sick with a cold the past few days, and the slower pace (my body is feeling tired and sluggish) has put me in a reflective frame of mind. Last week I wrote about Autumn and seasons of change. So much is changing for me at this moment in my life. For the past (almost) nineteen years, I have given my life to raising our sons. I remember the early days of motherhood, how all consuming they were. I recall the days of parenting toddlers, young boys and then tweens. Watching them grow and change and become people of their own. Schooling them, exploring, having adventures and discovering the world together. And now being the mother of boys who bodies are bigger than mine. These two lives that once fit inside me. Whose little shapes curled inside my arms when they were sad or afraid.
You always know, somewhere in the recesses of your awareness, that this will all change. And you know that it must, and you delight in seeing them reach into all that life has to offer, taking bigger steps. Flying just a little further every day from the orbit of your protection and influence. But knowledge is not the same as experience, and the reality of this letting go is harder than I anticipated. I love the freedom that having more time has brought, the space in my life and mind to explore new avenues and opportunities. I am excited about what lies around the corner for me. Already I have started to stretch the borders of my own capacities, and it feels both scary and very good. There is movement and life; it is a time not only of endings but also of beginnings. Joy and pain mingled together. I am proud of my boys; I am excited for them as they move into their futures. I am excited for myself. But today I am a little sad, and I feel the loss of what once was.