Ever have any? Some of those transitions can be sudden, and painful. There are those that seem taboo: the death of a child, a divorce, an affair. Those events transition a person into a new phase of life with certainty. Finality.
Then there are those which, though we know are coming, we don’t actually face until they come. Perhaps when a child begins to talk, moves into high school, moves on to college, gets married; maybe it’s when an aging parent dies…or a couple decides that they really should downsize to a small place, for just the two of them.
Sometimes we begin planning for them way in advance, so that we can mentally prepare for the inevitable. Or, maybe we simply carve out space in our mind’s eye so that when we do face that circumstance, it’s not a sudden shock to our system.
It kind of takes away from the excitement of more welcomed transitions, doesn’t it? The one to add another family member, to move to a larger house, to afford to take the kids on a “huge” vacation, and so on.
This transition, though, is different. This one. The one.
I definitely had a backwards transition to the first child leaving home. It was I, and not they, who left. I knew I was making a good decision. I can’t say it was the best or had some profound reason, other than I remarried and they were a burgeoning 18 year old. How could I rip them away from their “next”? I couldn’t. So, dad and I had an agreement. They would stay and finish high school, so close to the end that they were, and live with dad. I would move with the others.
I can’t say it wasn’t hard on my eldest. I am certain there is some residual pain there, but it’s not discussed. I love that child more than anything. I wish they could know this. Perhaps they do. Or, perhaps they distanced themselves from it since there was so much activity after I left, things I may not have allowed. A party at the house, for example. It’s okay. They survived as did the house. But me? I would cry myself to sleep out of missing them. My new husband tried to console me. I wasn’t having any part of it. It was more painful than I could have imagined. Though, it was also a good thing for that child. There was more room to come into their own. Though they faced some trials and some hurdles-nothing too terrible-they did do okay. Finished college. It was good.
I know that I saved that one some frustration because now I have the second eldest post-high school. Everything is not as they had hoped. It’s still my house, still my rules. There’s no partying until 3 a.m., or spending the night at people’s houses. There’s no freedom to explore whatever, whenever, however. There are reasons for that, of course. Trust is one. Fear of outcome is another. Mental illness still another. No one likes to address taboos, though.
Second eldest was cajoled, perhaps manipulated, encouraged, to move with dad. It’s not moving “out.” It’s only moving. Dad has some concerns as well. We can’t discuss those. They are also, taboo. Second is an empath. So, they will know they have done something when rewarded with accolades for being brave, and given positive emotions. What happens when that frivolity wears off? What happens when they can’t make the other happy enough? That’s the taboo. Don’t discuss underlying aspects.
I don’t blame second necessarily. Every visit is so fun! Trips to experience things, all paid for by someone else. Excursion here, event there. Life here is very mundane. It has to be. There are many here, with many schedules. Excitement is planned way out. It can be expensive.
Why not take a chance to live as the youngest….have a room. Well, they had a room here. Have a car…oh, they had a car here. Be required to pay for car insurance…oh, they had to pay half here….be doted on and allowed to get as many tattoos as they want, skip church, and talk a big game…….there it is. “Hope.” Apparently hope is in a constant face off with reality here. Hope should have direction, expectation, and guidance….otherwise, while it is mesmerizing, it’s not functional nor tangible.
So, this is what raw is like. While opportunity could continue to exist to be a guide as all parents can be, it may not. There is both another parent and their new spouse, parent to one child, to say things…and who knows what values they will convey….let alone based on no knowledge of second’s current needs, strengths, and weaknesses. Raw is helpless. Raw is emotional. Raw is tender. Raw is like a divorce-having had one, I know the feeling. Raw is raw. It is exploding with love and the need to protect and care….and raw leaves one feigning strength and resolve, which takes all the courage I can muster. I can’t let this show a weakness in me, just in case the strength is needed later on.