It's Official. I'm the Worst Mother in the World

Two weeks ago I dropped my one and only child off at college and I haven’t looked back. I’ve called him once — just once! —  to make sure he was alive. (He is.) But otherwise I haven’t obsessed or worried or even shed a tear. There must be something fatally wrong with me. Right?

1st day of kindergarten

For years, I dreaded the day Jack would leave my home and go off to college. Sure, I wanted my son to succeed, but the thought of my only kid leaving me made me queazy. 

This was the boy I taught to fish and play tennis, spent untold hours reading bedtime stories, playing Hot Wheels and building elaborate tracks for Thomas the Tank Engine. But thankfully, children grow up slowly -- and there's this thing called puberty that really helps you detach, or at least put some distance between you and your son's stinky feet.

In January, when Jack was accepted to his first-choice college, Auburn, with an academic scholarship to boot, reality kicked in. My son was leaving me behind to begin living a life that largely would not include me. The thought made me sad. 

But then I realized … it was just a thought. And a thought in and of itself  has no power over me — or shouldn’t — unless I give it power. And often I do. 

My thought goes like this: “Jack is leaving me behind! He doesn’t need me anymore. I will be alone.” But that’s not true. Yes, my son is leaving to go to college, and I am not going to move into his dorm room with him. (And everyone is really happy about that.) And he doesn’t need me anymore in the way he did when he was younger. (Thank God.) Nor will he be living under my roof 24/7. (Again, thank you!) 

A more accurate thought is this: “Jack is moving towards his own goals and dreams which don’t need to include me, which is healthy. And I am moving towards my goals and dreams which don’t always include him, which is also healthy.” (The “I will be alone” statement is just over-the-top melodrama. I mean, I could be alone if I want to be alone, but that’s also a choice I make.)

When it comes down to it, all my attitudes are a choice. I can choose to look at a turn of events as a loss or a gain. I can choose to be happy for my son and for myself in this new stage of our lives, or I can choose to be nostalgic and maudlin. Why would I want to choose to be miserable when my son is experiencing a sense of accomplishment? Why would I want to dwell on the negative when it’s just as easy to find the good? 

First day of college

Last Wednesday, as I made the two hour drive home from Auburn after depositing Jack and his worldly goods on campus, I considered how easy it would be to feel sad. But I chose to feel satisfied, contented, even happy for him and for myself. After all, sending a kid to college is a great accomplishment even under the best conditions; and we had, shall I say, our share of challenges along the way. 

So no, I’m not sad about Jack’s departure. I don’t feel lonely or depressed. The dreaded day came and went and I’m relieved and happy that he’s on his way to adulthood. I almost feel guilty for not feeling sad. Almost. Instead I’m happy with the knowledge that our lives are unfolding exactly as they should. This is what Buddhists call non-attachment. Although it may sound crass it is actually a form of unconditional love. Imagine that?

I certainly didn’t always make the best choices as Jack was growing up. In fact, I made some really bad ones along the way. But somehow it seems that maybe, just maybe, I’m not the worst mother in the world after all.

Shopping for One-ness

Today, for the first time in 24 years I grocery shopped for one. 

It's been 24 years since I've been without a husband or child in the house. Almost a quarter of a century since I made purchases that were solely for my consumption. During that time, there's no telling how many hundreds of  trips I've made to the grocery store always thinking of one person or another. 

Today was different.

I thought shopping only for myself might be depressing, but today I strolled the aisles studying the produce and happily picking out mushrooms, heirloom tomatoes, arugula, corn, avocados and limes as though I was shopping for the first time. As I loaded the cart with Kettle chips, goat cheese, a small piece of salmon, a petite ribeye steak, and a bag of roasted almonds, I was very conscious of the fact that the only person I had to please was me. And I was very pleased.

How many decisions did I make in the past 24 years to please someone else? How many times did I walk down the aisles of life ignoring my own taste, setting aside my principles, or not considering my goals because someone else's seemed to matter more? I'll answer that for you: Too many.

There's nothing wrong with taking others into consideration when making decisions. As a parent, you have to do that all the time. But if I'm subjugating my own preferences in relationships, then I need to examine my motives. Because, in my experience, when I do something that is outside of my principles, I end up resenting the other person for it -- as well as resenting myself.  

Case in point: All of my adult life, I've loved mushrooms but when I married and discovered that my husband didn't share my feelings for fungi, I stopped preparing dishes that called for them. Granted, I didn't really care that much about mushrooms, but it was a little thing that I denied myself because of someone else's opinion. There were bigger ways I deferred my preferences and tastes in that marriage, and eventually those differences became insurmountable. In the end, I resented my ex for so many things I denied myself. And I realize now that wasn't his fault. It was mine. 

So today as I perused the isles at Aldi, filling my cart with single-sized portions and items that only I would eat, I felt a glimmer of freedom. For the first time in a very long time, I realized the satisfaction that comes from being one and whole. 

 

August 21, 2020