Going it alone (Update)
by tamarjacobson
I remember the time my young teenage son decided to make his own school lunch. For a week or so I had been feeling worthless, empty, and blue. And then one morning I wandered into the kitchen, and as I watched my son making his school lunch, I realized what my sadness all that week had been about. Yes indeed! My baby did not need me any more, and Lord knows the one way I could show that I was needed was, at the very least, through feeding him! It was one more necessary loss. One more loss of control – loss of influence. I remember breathing a sigh of relief as I realized what my feelings of emptiness were about.
This morning I woke out of a long nightmarish dream, where I was unable to fix a problem, and wherever I went it was either the wrong place, or people closed their doors to me. The frustration and angst was palpable. Suddenly, I shook myself awake, sat straight up in my bed, and stared into the still dark of the very early morning. Strangely I felt clearer – less heavy – less empty, than I had been feeling for quite a few days. I busied myself with pouring coffee, checking emails, bank statements, feeding the cat, cleaning her litter – on and on. And then … as I was pouring my second cup of coffee, the memory of my son making his own school lunch so many years ago popped into my mind as vividly as if it were right now.
For now, twenty years later, he has chosen not to need me again. In his gentle way, he has become assertive and strong with me, pushing me back and away. Something he obviously needs and wants to do for himself in this stage in his life. For days, no weeks, maybe even months, my brain and heart have been crying out: "Hey! I can fix your problems. I know how. All you have to do is … my way … "
But he has decided to go it alone. My frustration and angst has been palpable. The feelings of loss have been excruciating. But, finally, this morning, I think I get it! As I write this, I am starting to breathe a sigh of relief, because, perhaps, I am beginning to understand – I mean, really understand – what my feelings of emptiness are about.
I think this is what it means … to let go …
Update:
Friends comment about this post on Facebook:
Jan:
BRILLIANT, my treasure! Now you have SPACE to stand back and see what you have launched on the world: a STAR! A serious, funny, brilliant STAR! CLLLLLLLEVER you! As you know stars only shine when they have a lot of sky aorund them …
Aeron:
Really nice post, Tamar. It gave me a lot to think about. (Remember, you can always tell *me* how to live my life!)
tamarjacobson 
P.S. As an adult child of humans I can tell you that I have never stopped needing my parents… never stopped longing for my mother’s attention and support… never. Since I am learning, to my ego’s dismay, that I am not so unlike other ACOH (LOL) I can only imagine that your wonderful son needs you in ways even HE cannont identify yet. That even as a full grown ACOH, HE is going through a constant process of coming and going… does the individuation process every really cease? Ahh… the transitions are always so tough. If only there was a transition “song” for this sort of thing to help us all ease into it a bit.
How hard it is to let go of our children, and how necessary. Maybe it’s hardest to know that our children CAN get from other people variations of what we want to give them. And more disturbing could be that sometimes these other sources, including their inner resources, might have, if not better, at least more diverse ways of ‘solving’ lifes issues. Spead some of your mothering to others who need it and rest assured that there are folks out there who will do the same for your son.
Cheryl
What a discovery! Letting go can be so scary, but also so liberating and offers such messages of faith and belief, both in our selves and in what or who we are letting go of. It’s a beautiful, difficult, poignant moment, as is this post filled with all of the same! Thank you for sharing this TOmar… I’m glad you updated!