I just came off of a high like no other. My husband and I decided that we would travel for Mother’s Day to visit the children who no longer live in our area.
To have all of us together again even for a day or two was amazing. We visited the art museum, enjoyed a local brewery for dinner and drinks, brought a cheesecake from the grocery store, enjoyed some Netflix, and the kids gave me a card that brought me to tears of gratitude. The following morning we had breakfast at a cute restaurant before heading back home.
Nothing was too expensive. Nothing was too forced. Nothing was too scheduled. It felt like old times. It felt like family.
It is difficult to watch our children go off into the big, bad world and become adults. It can make us feel old. It can make us crave the days when Mother’s Day included watching the kids play in the back yard after a big Sunday meal.
But I, the one who tends to look at things as rosy and upbeat spent very little time lamenting my age and the fact that the kids are starting to scatter farther and farther from the homestead. I looked at this day as a testimony to something my husband and I did right.
Oh! The times we fought. Oh! The times we were broke as a joke. Oh! The times that the kids made us crazy. The times that our parenting skills were less than stellar. The times that we pushed our own agendas on the kids. The times that we questioned our sanity. Was it all worth it?
Absolutely. Our children are not just an extension of ourselves, but their own wonderful, insightful, and creative souls who will design their own destiny and move our big, bad world forward.