I’ve got that mama lump in my throat, the lip quiver and the eye burn you get when you are being brave for your children in ways you are not sure you can manage. Im showing up anyway. This mother gig is the hardest one I’ve had. It’s been a 24/7 invitation of letting go ever since my first born came along.
Today this first born is boarding a plane for the first time alone, and heading to Sydney for 4 days to see her dad and other family. Mostly, we have the blended family thing down. It has its challenges, but parenting with two biological parents does too. Her dad and I are blessed to have remarried people with enough love in their hearts to see the truth of this precious soul. These new partnerships have given her a sister and brother. We set clear intentions at the start that carry us through any challenges that come. There is no one I would rather be dancing this dance with than her dad and his new wife. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.
Mostly in life I find the most worthwhile things can be the hardest to show up for. In two days she turns 8. It’s the first time I won’t see her on her birthday, and me as a fragmented whittled down mama self feels sad about that. Underneath that i’m thankful she has a loving family that want her to visit for Father’s Day and her birthday. Im thankful she has so much love and courage in her heart that she leads us all out of our comfort zones again and again. And it’s still hard for me to let go. I want to wrap her in my love and guard her from life’s sharp and broken bits. But, I can’t. In truth its those hard broken bits that polish us and make us round and soft and kind. I can’t deny her that.
When it came time to hand her over to the hostess, I smiled, I hugged, I loved, I said thank you. Inside me I wanted to ask if she had children? Had she handed them over to a stranger before? Would she hold her hand if she was scared? Could she hug her if the plane crashed? But I didn’t. I got over myself.
This brave soul has given me so many lessons on surrender, of remembering ultimately nothing is really under my control. On the surface that is a scary and petrifying thought. Yet in the depths of my stretched and fragile heart a little seed of stillness and peace stirs. It’s worth it, breaking my heart open again and again, letting go again and again. We all have to let go of everything sooner or later. So if you happen to see a teary snotty mess at the airport, know that at least part of her is courageous and brave and committed to serving and loving this life bigger than she knows how. And that she has promised life she will keep showing up again and again and again….