Realizing that my babies are getting older....means I must come to grips with getting older.
They reach their various milestones and here am I, sitting here, not advancing in any way that makes any sort of sense.
I find myself, more often than not, weeping much more frequently at the thought of my children being older and somewhat independent. I know that it's wonderful that they're going off on their own....but where does that leave me?
Once my children have gone off on their own merry way, what's my job? Do I cease to be relevant? I think that's what I'm most afraid of. I was an important person in their lives for so many years....a crucial part. Then they went and grew up and became able to do a lot on their own accord.....sans mom.
It makes me wonder how my mother felt when I moved out.....and even before that, when I decided to shut her out while I was still under her roof.
My children aren't ungrateful.....by any stretch. They are moving away from me, though. In my desperation to retain them in my lives, I may do or say some really nutty things.
Someday, if they have their own kids, they'll find my little quirks to be not quite so quirky....I hope.
