Raise Them To Go: And Then Cry, When They Do

This piece was created by my youngest daughter a few years ago. as a Christmas gift for me, one of my favorite pictures, ever. Wynter has been creating art, ever since she could hold a crayon. She has recently graduated from Herron School of Art, in Indianapolis and is preparing to move to NY for grad school. Everyday I am amazed at her skill and passion for expression. Using her pieces to create a story brings me unbelievable joy. Thank you for your time, in reading my work, but more for supporting a young, incredibly talented artist.

You can say it, over and over again, but they can never really understand or comprehend the depth of the love you have for them. Half the time, I don't think we even realize the kind of love we have for them, until we experience the "moments". And let me tell you, they leave a mark.

KIDS.

You cry and cuddle and change a buttload of diapers to get through the baby phase, and, yeah, there are things that you miss, (the smell and the snuggling) and things you are more than glad to see gone. (The smell, mostly).

Next, is the toddler phase, and the endless question why, becomes the ultimate fighting word. WHY?!!! Because I said so, that's why.

I say this now, smiling, but there were days, that word could have sent me packing.

Oh, and then, the mom, mom, mom - times infinity. I would tell my kids, nope, today, that is not my name. And until you figure out the name of the day, I am not required to answer.

Of course, that never lasted long.

The pride and frustration that came, as they began to feel and test their independence.

There actually comes a day when the words you choose, followed by the tone you are using, makes you stop in your tracks, find a mirror - to witness and record the precise moment you became your parent.

It is life changing.

They make you absolutely crazy, and then you sit in your car, bawling as you drop them off for their first day of kindergarten.

In my case, I volunteered in their classrooms. I suffered from separation anxiety. Pitiful, maybe. But it did open doors later in their school careers, to get - and keep me acquainted with their friends. (Some of which, at 23, still invite me along on road trips - to the occasional water and theme parks)

If you're anything like me, you cry through the first dates, prom dates and swear you will knock a boy out, following the first of the broken hearts. I took after my dad, and sure had a few of those boys tripping over themselves to vacate my presence, promptly and respectfully.

Then, there is the moment they receive their diploma's. Walking pridefully in their caps and gowns, all the while dragging your heart across the stage and out the back door with them.

Of course, I know this is what we intended, as we taught them how to take their first steps and encouraged them to be their own person.

Little did we know, how much of us would go with them. There are pieces of my heart and soul, I will never recover.

If my parents had told me just how brutal child rearing and releasing would be, I may have reconsidered.

Okay, that is a lie. I would change a lot of things, but having my kids, is not one of them. They are my ultimate pride and joy, albeit the occasional familiar pains in my keester.

I am using vacation days this week, to help my youngest move from her college apartment, 3 hours from home to a new apartment in another city 10 hours away.

Another process in the raising and letting go that I have yet to master.

Pride isn't a strong enough word to describe the emotions I feel as I look at all my kids have accomplished. Their talent, desire, and drive is more than I could have ever instilled.

They are gifts.

I don't know what you believe, but I am assured every day, that they were blessings given to me, to remind me what love really is.

It is all consuming and joyful. It is exasperating and uplifting. It is crappy days followed with sunshine and rainbows.

I wouldn't trade a minute of it.

By the way Nizhoni and Wynter, and now 3 1/2-year-old Grayson. I love you more than words can express. As long as I am able, I will always be there for you. Thank you for the memories.

Gratefully- mom and mama K