Tuesday, September 06, 2005

The setting of the summer sun

The sun is setting perceptibly sooner now that Labor Day has passed. It seems to hasten it's descent across the evening sky, leaving a dusk that tarries not. I'm sure it is a deception of the mind to assign winter's paranoid to the sun, still I can't help but think the sun has little desire to remain when the cold artic wind begins it's encroachment. Yes, I know, we have winter and shorter days because of the earth's rotation around the sun and that we are beginning our movement to the furthest point on the ellipse from the sun and so on. I am complete emotion today. There is no logic in my brain for now. One final lingering sunset last night, a final tip of the hat to the last day of summer. While the calendar allows for autumn to begin September 22nd, fall starts for us when the first choke of diesel fuel belches from the school bus exhaust. I allowed myself to remain a little delusional yesterday. Afterall, it was 93 degrees, we began the morning with a 1.3 mile swim (longest open water in my life and it felt wonderful) continued the day with boats, bar b que and beer, and had a wonderful time with friends and family.

What should I pick up for school lunches tomorrow? Screech like a needle across vinyl. Tridaddy was going to stop at the store on the way home and asked the simple question. How could he have known that one question would serve to explode my whole scheme of, "yes I'm glad they are going back, they are really getting bored at home. Finally, no more playing cruise director, police officer and maid. I'm glad to have afternoons free. blah, blah, blah"

I woke up all emotion this morning. No reasoning to be had here, and for good reason. I'm being displaced. After 12 years of constant duty I'm being displaced. Now, granted, I can't think of a better bunch of people to take over my role, but I'm being displaced. I told myself this would be easy. I told myself this will be great. I told myself all of the things that I have to do with that time, mentoring young inner city girls, leading a mentoring book club of young women, volunteering at school, training for Ironman, paperwork and bookeeping for the comany, work at the Y. But those are all square pegs in the round hole in a mother's heart.

"Mom, I spend more time with my teacher than I spend with you now."

Plink, just like that they jumped out of the nest. All right, some of them needed a little nudge and one needed a giant push, but they are off and flying.


I wasn't prepared for the sun to set so quickly this fall.

They come home in the evening to roost, but they are learning to fly. I'm glad for them and I'm glad for our family. I don't diminish my value to them in their lives because they are flying, it's just a paradigm shift that I didn't completely prepare for; simply because it is not logical, it's all emotion. It's about being nudged aside to allow for others to help in raising and nuturing them. Others that they need, and we need, but still others. I wasn't emotionally prepared for others today. Particularly others who are other's by vocation. It's what they do. It's not who they are, but it's what they do. They teach. They love my kids and they nuture my kids and they teach. Mom is not a vocation. It's not what you do, it's what you are. It's both. I am more than mom, I am much more than mom. But, I am mom. Still, all the time, 24/7 until I die, I am mom. I can't explain it. My logical mind has an answer to every irrational thought I raise, like I said, it's all emotion. I rarely run on emotion, I'm a logical person. Today I had planned to put in 12 miles when I dropped the youngest at kindergarten. I came home and cleaned their rooms instead. I guess I had to nudge back a little-it's not good to run on emotion afterall.

4 comments:

:) said...

Whew, my wife is going through the same thing. My son (only child) just started K this year and she feels the exact same way.

Here's a hug :)!

Nancy Toby said...

What a sweet and loving thought! But heck, I'll be 51 before I have to face that... :-)

Tracy said...

Man, this post made me cry, I'm afraid of knowing how you feel - our kids are getting close to kinder-age and it's hard to process. I mean, they go to preschool now, but the whole "school" thing isn't official in my head somehow just yet. They grow up, don't they? I keep looking at them wishing that I could freeze them at this age, but then, I guess I'd miss all that they'll become. You'll make it, you're Trimama, and emotion is part of the package. It'll get you where logic sometimes won't - hang in there, sister.

Vertical Man said...

My youngest is 17 and a high-school senior, but this post made all those years come flooding right back. Thanks!