// 10:12 am
I have a son that will be 18 at the end of the July. To be honest, I'm celebrating this, but only in a selfish way, mostly. I mean, I'm happy for him to go off and create his own life, his own world, and to live the way he wants to live, and to jump into the deep ends of what appears to be endless creativity and opportunity. Probably only to realize the layers and layers of illusions that society presents and demands that he participates in, and supports in keeping alive.
Or not.
But, mostly, I'm excited to just be done. I've had the beginning stages of that freedom already, for the past year or two, as he got his own car, his own jobs, and has been living pretty independently for some time now. I only see him a couple of times a month, at best, as I've mostly been “the weekend Dad” for most of his life. He's lived with his mother full-time, and his school, friends, and overall life, are found “in that area”. Where my house has been more of a vacation home, where he can come over whenever he wants, enjoys the quiet solitude and peaceful zen-space that I've created, and can refresh a little before going back into the chaos of life.
The last year – and especially the last 6 months or so – he's been coming over less and less, as his responsibilities with work increase. I'm guessing his interest has declined, as well. Perhaps even his overall energy to drive across the city to my house isn't so appealing as it used to be previously. I think I've only seen him once this entire month, and as a typical teenager, he said no more than two words to me – if you would even call them words. I'd call them ape-like grunts that barely conveyed meaning and information.
I learned a while ago to just let things be. I can give my love without requiring him to return anything in a specific way, or even at all. But overall, it seems that I'm entering a new phase of parenting, where the child goes off on his own and begins to really (attempt) to live his own life. I went through it and demanded even more distance and independence from my parents, so, I get it. I encourage it, actually. I'll be supportive in whatever ways I can be.
There is that part of me that is kind of... sad?... about it? Maybe sad isn't the best word, but close enough, I guess. It is hard to watch your little one grow up and go off on their own, and through that process nearly cut you off. I do have a sense of “my entire life for the last 20 years has been all about you, and now you just throw me out!” kind of emotional environment. But, I can be the witness of that, while still consciously being who I want to be throughout that experience. The crummy weather doesn't have to dampen my mood. I can use it however I want and make it a positive. I can still smile even when it's raining, so to speak.
Plus, I can realize how I did things to my parents, and made them go through their own range of emotions and situations, that I probably get to experience now, myself. I think the parenting experience is more a growing lesson of the self, rather than growing another. I've learned more about myself through all of this than anything else. Even just to have those experiences where you go “oh shit, this is what my parents felt like when I did that to them” etc.
I've offered more apologies and gratitude to my parents in the last few years than I ever have before.
I guess I've been observing those emotions and thoughts arise within me for some time now, and have been kind of wondering... what's next?
It's a weird emotional spectrum to go through when you watch your kiddo grow up, and even more intense when they are just... kinda... gone, all of a sudden. You were literally their entire world for so long, and they were so dependent on you for everything. But now, almost out of nowhere, you become this background piece that's put on the shelf, like an old toy that was outgrown, and you begin to collect dust. You observe from your new location in the ever-growing landscape of their mind, and witness their creative life experience take them further away from you. You can't help but feel so proud, while at the same time feeling as though the biggest part of you just intentionally ripped itself from you, and walks away.
It's so beautiful. It truly is so amazing. I think anyone that's been a parent and has gone through this stage can understand it, as well.
I love it. I'm so happy for him. I'm also happy for myself, too. Even with the “sad” feelings that are there, I can still see the beauty in all of it. (Plus, realizing the “sad” feeling is only coming from a place of ego that still wants the attachment, control and identity).
I made it.
He made it.
We did it.
And now I get to watch what he does with himself and his life. I get to observe the magic continue, even if differently than how it has been the last 20 years.
I also get to watch what I do with my own experience. I'm nearing 40 years old, and to be “done” with the parenting part already is a rather wonderful opportunity. I think so, anyway. I have friends that are my same age and have multiple kids under the age of 5, and I think, oh shit, you have so long to go, and when you get to “the end” you'll be old AF. What will you create then? What will you pursue? Who will you be?
Their experience will be beautiful, too.
Everything is beautiful, honestly. There's no one path that is better than the other. No “right” way.
It all, just is, as it is.
Until it is not.
My path is my own, and I'm looking forward to what I can do, who I can be, and the love that I can give to myself, and others.
It's just a little weird during this transition time.
More later...
/mg
mrgr3y at protonmail dot com