“If you would have your son to walk honorably through the world, you must not attempt to clear the stones from his path but teach him to walk firmly over them—not insist upon leading him by the hand, but let him learn to go alone.” — Anne Brontë, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall
I wasn't sure how I felt as I went through the motions of folding clothes and placing them inside my luggage. Not my clothes. My son’s. Cody’s.
It isn't the first time I folded clothes for him, but it's the first time he is going somewhere I didn’t pick and plan for him. It’s some place he chose to go. Not my choice. Again, not in the plan I have for him.
But as Anne Brontë urges mothers like me, I had to let him go, alone. I mean, isn’t this what I wanted for him - that he finally learns independence and lives his life as a grown man?
And now that it is happening, why do I have this nagging feeling that I am about to lose something? Or that I am losing my little boy?
I remember him throwing a fit every time I scolded him for acts of defiance and I always end up harshly asking, “I will die one day, and that’s a fact, what are you going to do then?”
He would glare at me, yet I always saw tears welling up in his eyes.
And now, here he is, about to go on a journey I am not a part of. I should be celebrating, right?
But, why am I sad?
I remember his little arms pulling me close as he whispered, “I love you, Mama.” That was in 2010 when I got very sick. He was about six or seven years old. We were in bed, and I had to turn my back on the kids because I didn’t want them to see me as I struggled to keep myself from weeping.
“Stop crying!” I told myself reproachfully. “You have to be very quiet or you’ll wake the kids!” I pointed out.
I was in tears because I was scared of dying and leaving them behind with no one to love them. As my sobs were becoming uncontrollable, my sleepy little boy reached out and tried to console me, letting me know he was there.
He made me less afraid that night. That he did for me. Unintentionally, he protected me from myself, from my self-loathing thoughts, and my lack of faith.
And I will never forget how I clung onto my little boy then, hoping to not drown in my own tears and fears.
But now, it’s time to let go and let him discover who he is meant to be. Let him see how life can be beautiful when he trusts himself more and that he can make his own decisions.
And he doesn’t even have to be afraid to leave because it’s all right for him to let me go, too.
Letting go is hard, but I must remember this: my son deserves a life full of wonder. It doesn't have to be perfect, but one that allows him to appreciate himself more. He needs to believe that it wasn’t his fault our family was broken. And I owe it to him and Porter that I let them go to rediscover who they are, even if it means I can’t be a part of that adventure.
So, I am taking a step back and willing myself to stop stressing and watch as my son’s life unfolds in some place where I’m nowhere close. One day, I will learn to be okay with the absence and the distance.
For now, I will save my tears for another day. What matters more now is that he goes on this journey. Since I can‘t be with him, I hope my luggage reminds him that he is not alone and he’s always in my thoughts and prayers.
As Sophia Loren said:
“When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thought. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.”
This is a beautiful piece on the strength of a bond between mother and son. These are some amazing experiences that you've had that showed you how to be a strong, thoughtful mom. I personally believe that these are simple values that every mom should have. Unfortunately, this is not the reality in today's world. There are so many mothers that put themselves ahead of their children and families. I never saw that as a kid, but as an adult, I see it more and more each day.
Bravo to you for harnessing those core mom qualities. What a beautiful read.