I don't fit again. The loss of a child changes so many things about the way you used to fit into society. When that piece of you dies with them, and a new you fights for life again, the end result is a person who no longer recognizes the you that you left behind.
Confused? Me too. My oldest two children are leaving for college on Wednesday. We've been packing and planning for a couple of months now, but official move in day is in less than a week. I've talked to each of them separately about how I'll miss them, and that I'd love it if they'd send me a text every once in awhile. But there are no tears. There is no longing. I'm not sad that they're in this place in their lives. In fact, if anything, I'm really excited.
I know I've talked about this particular sentiment before in that I've mentioned that I don't have typical "mom" feelings anymore. That's probably to be expected. But there is a sense of guilt, or almost like I need to hide how I'm feeling because it doesn't meet the social norm. And that's why I chose to write today. As always, I write to process difficult emotions. I write to heal. And I needed to see, in writing, that what I'm feeling is ok. Maybe someone else needs to see that, too?
I don't begrudge you your feelings about your children leaving for college, or starting kindergarten for the first time. I don't hate your posts about your worries and fears as they make their way into the world outside of you. I guess what I need, is for my feelings to be ok, too. I need for it to be ok that when I DO read the posts lamenting college drop off, that it's ok that I don't feel that. I need for it to be acceptable that because I don't feel that, I hurt a little inside.
Once, early in my grief, I tried explaining to a worried coworker why I mentioned wanting to die in such a nonchalant manner. It wasn't that I wanted to take my own life. I just wanted college drop off day, like everyone else does. Why do you drop your kids off? Because you want to see their new home. You want to meet some of the people with whom they'll now be spending their time. You want to make sure they're comfortable in their new surroundings. That's all I want as well. But, for me, in order to do that, I'd have to go to heaven, right? I can't see his "room". I can't see his "friends". I just wanted what we all want.
I'm so proud of the two young adults I'm "dropping off" next week. I only take so much credit for them, but I believe they're pretty good humans, and that was always the goal. They're kind and compassionate. They're accepting and loving. And they're both going to love this next adventure. So though I'm not at all sad, and I likely won't have any tears for them, what I will have is an overabundance of gratitude for getting to witness this day. I may not have a map to heaven, but I can sure as hell get to Columbia...go be awesome, my babies!
