My Max graduated on May 30, 2020 in a drive-through processional. It was actually heartwarmingly perfect. The streets of our little town were lined with people in front of their homes holding up signs “Congratulations, Class of 2020!” Here’s to celebrating the future in the face of disaster. It’s how we win back our lives from fear.
His big brother Shane came home for a couple weeks. My house was full again. My home office is in the living room adjoining the kitchen. As with most homes, my family and friends gather at the kitchen table.
The first morning Shane was back I could hear my sons at the kitchen table talking. Shane giving advice to Max about going away to college and living on his own for the first time. Max telling Shane about music. Shane telling Max about movies. I was in the next room at my desk sending up a silent thank you to the Universe that they were not talking about going to law school. Not that I don’t respect or appreciate my profession and my passion. I want my kids to follow their hearts to their art. When I finally did, it made all the difference in my life.
The other night, going through my journals, I found a classic brotherly exchange, circa 2015. It occurred to me that a solid chunk of a being a mom (or dad) is eavesdropping on your kids and hoping there’s no crying or bloodshed.
Max: “Shane, what can you do with a mixer?”
Shane: “What CAN’T you do with a mixer?”
Max: “Can you make babies with it?”
Shane: “Leave my room.”
My sweet, funny, sometimes pain in the ass kids left my house tonight to go stay at their dad’s house for a few days. Shane said to me, “Mom, you look tired.” I said, “Yeah, I had a rough workday.” He hugged me and said, “I love you.” He came back through an hour later and I got another hug. Max said, “I’m leaving but I’ll be back, Mom. I’m not really leaving, I’ll be back later tonight.” I said, “I know, baby.”
Yesterday was my fifth divorcesary. Five years since my divorce was final. During those five years, my sons have grown from teenagers to young men. During the first really hard years, I wasn’t sure I was doing it right. I wasn’t sure I was present enough as a mom. I was the mom who brought store-bought snacks, I didn’t plan ahead. I was the mom who sometimes couldn’t make it to the ceremonies or the concerts or the presentations because I had a hearing or a deposition. I was that mom whose “career” kept her busy. I felt guilty – a lot.
I’ve always talked to my sons about my work, usually when we eat dinner together. About how important it is to look out for those who don’t look like you, who are disabled, who are struggling. That we have an obligation to bring this world forward, to make it better than we found it. That we are here to serve, not judge. Man, I love talking to them about my work. Max once told me that one word that describes me is “unstoppable.” I like that.
On my fifth divorcesary, I realized that I needed to give myself a fucking break. I was telling my sons to be compassionate, good humans, but I was not doing that for myself. You cannot truly be a compassionate, good human, until you are compassionate and good to yourself. My mom used to tell me, when I would say something negative about another person, “Are you judging something in them that you need to evaluate in yourself?” Oooh, so hard to think about that. Maybe that is the greatest fear we face. Not a pandemic. That we have to get truly gritty and honest with ourselves. And maybe instead of doing it with judgment – do it with compassion and curiosity. My mom is usually right. Most moms are usually right.
I sure don’t have the answers, but I’m asking a lot of questions these days. I have great kids and I’m grateful for them and their love and their wicked senses of humor every damn day. I’ve got five years of being single and falling on my face a lot. And also – getting back up again. I think I’m going to give myself a break and be a little more loving to myself in my journey to be an unstoppable, compassionate, human being and advocate. I hope you consider a little kindness towards yourself in this journey we are all on together. Namasté, beautiful ones. Don’t give up. We can do this.
mamaninjawarrior 