26 minutes ago
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Melancholy summer. The first time there isn't that rush to gather supplies and check that uniforms are clean and tidy. No high school classes to prepare for, much less those sweet elementary school days. Two grown and in college. I have had a summer in which I have floated along feeling unfinished, not moored to anything, slightly unnecessary.
This evening I noticed the change in light that accompanies the tail end of August. The afternoons mellow into a golden gleam. I used to welcome this light, knowing another busy fall was soon approaching. This year it leaves me feeling a bit flat, a little teary.
The empty nest, although actually quite full, with friends in and out, dinners for 3 or 4 extra each night, seems to be sneaking upon me. Is it only mothers who feel bereft when the children are finally ready to fly away?
I took an after dinner swim tonight and as I floated with my eyes closed I could almost feel that I was in my own backyard at 18 or 19, swimming in my parent's pool. When I envision that time, the sky is as blue as the water and fluffy clouds drift overhead. The grass is a mellow glowing green and the scent of flowers wafts by. Memories tend to turn ordinary days into technicolor fantasies that make us long for times past. I do not want my children to know how sad this summer seems to me, because these are their own golden days of youth and all the possibilities it holds.
It is a transition that all mothers and fathers must make. Letting go is so hard but I hope this change will turn to new freedom and opportunity for us as well as our son and daughter.
The change in seasons that approaches always comes with a mix of anticipation and sorrow, for what is to come and what has passed by. I will embrace what is to come with a heart full of hope for great times ahead and a head filled with lovely memories.
To all you mom's out there experiencing the universal angst of motherhood, I would hug each one of you and tell you, "I know just how you feel."
Have a sweet Saturday, P.
Posted by Pam @ Frippery at 9:09 AM