Connected

"I know there's an invisible string that's going from my heart to your heart. But sometimes I feel like it's going around a corner and it's getting stretched out so thin."

I yelled I love you out the window to my son as I dropped him off at highschool. Even though his friends were close by. Even though he's 14. He didn't mind. He still hugs me in public places when he needs a little love. We are connected. 

For two hours they've all been gone. One wore all camo for the new teacher He has been so looking forward to because he is sure his teacher likes it. One rode his bike to school so he could get there early on his own terms and in control of his own schedule. The little one ran off to his friends without a second look, so very happy to be with them just like me. 

I can see each of their selves in their own personal styles, so different from eachother. Classic and simple, the bmx guy, the 4th grader who thinks camo is cool, and the 6 year old with his collared button up and cardigan. I loosely hold the reins and let them take the lead, have their preferences and interests. This keeps us connected. 

It's the first day of school. A normal year we hope one without masks and distancing. Where they can sit close with their friends and lean over a book, high-five in gym class and wrestle at recess. 

Dad makes breakfast, a smoothie with the last of the peaches, eggs and hashbrowns. Lunches and waterbottles are loaded into backpacks, bright new shoes at the ready. Things they have carefully chosen, decisions they have made about what they like and want. Not just things but who they are and want to be, how they interact with others, what they want to do and be a part of, things they want to achieve. 

All day alone I feel the pull from my heart to theirs. My mind is working planning ahead for supper, an afterschool snack so it is free to listen, listen, listen when they get home to all they have to say. Listen underneath the surface too for what they feel. 

All this long last year and a half we have been together and I consider how together does not mean connected. How 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' can be true. How an abundance of time can push us apart as much as it brings us together. How a little distance, a little room and variety thickens up that string until it's nice and stout and we are connected. 

Wanted

You know that thing where people with grown kids tell people with little kids
You're gonna miss this
I know what they mean
Yes you'll miss their chubby cheeks and wispy curls and heavy bodies nestled into you
But you know what it really is?
The thing they're really missing 

is being liked and adored and wanted so much

I have spent 13 years being loved and needed

That long time of being steeped and drenched in love
Even when I wanted to be free, even when I was exhausted or intellectually starved I was marinated in love

And now I'm not

Yes they still love me but they are growing relationships with others, they are becoming resourceful on their own
The need for me and interest in me is making room for their evolving which is wonderful and joyful in another way

It's not wrong of my husband that he doesn't love me and need me and want me and like me every second like four babies do
He loves me like a normal grown up with personal space and time apart and differences of opinion

This occurs to me and I realise this is what a normal adult life is like

Just being yourself, doing your thing, not receiving a constant stream of toddler love oxytocin as I have been

This is what the people mean when they say 

You're gonna miss this

And I have to get used to it
this price of freedom