The Magical Summer Nights of Walking and Waiting

This quote has been rolling around in my mind since I first saw it.  How could one sentence so specifically capture the essence of my youth! There is something in those words that speak to a very specific time in my life- a time when I was no longer a child, but not yet old enough to have the freedoms of a teen.  A time when the possibilities seemed endless, but the reality was much smaller and less glamorous.

I grew up in a traditional suburb in Indiana on the southern tip of Lake Michigan.  It was too big to have the charm and accessibility of a small town, but not quite big enough to offer the excitement we thought we needed as precocious teens. My home from 4th grade on was in a neighborhood of two streets- two cul de sacs to be exact.  I can't say exactly how many homes there were in my subdivision- I'd guess 20-30, but I can tell you that I knew everyone's names.

 One of the great things about my neighborhood was that there were a lot of kids, many around my age.  I was lucky to have a girl one year older who moved in across the street from me. We were fast friends and found ourselves hanging out a lot.  Carol (forever to be known as "Carol, who lived across the street from me") and I were always looking for something to do during the summer.  Because this was the 80's, we did our fair share of "laying out", watching "All My Children" and "General Hospital", and thinking about important hair questions like to perm or not to perm, Sun-In or lemon juice. (For the record, I unwisely said yes to both.)  We made cookies (chocolate oatmeal no bake and chocolate chip with twice the dough, half the chips), we made popcorn (with cheese on top). But in the evening, our favorite thing to do was walk the streets of the neighborhood.

We walked the streets each night in a cloud of bug spray filled with anticipation that maybe, possibly something exciting would happen in our little suburban enclave.  It rarely did, but that didn't stop us from hoping! On a good night, if we were lucky, some of the neighborhood boys would also be outside and we would entertain ourselves by watching them play frisbee or throw shoes at the bats flying around the street light.  Sometimes we would join forces and hang out together. We would spend our summers falling in and out of crushes with the boys and their friends. These crushes were usually not reciprocated, but we were optimistic that this would be the night they finally saw us in a new light.  We walked and talked about life, we mused about our typical teenage problems that always seemed bigger than they were, and we poured over other things that were actually pretty darn big even by adult standards.  We tried to solve world problems when we failed at solving our own. We took in the beauty of the summer nights- ample stars, full moons, meteor showers, lunar eclipses.  We ate snacks outside, we sat on the curb under the maple trees and talked to our neighborhood friends life and our thoughts on the future.  And still, we waited for that magical something that was going to transport us from our boring lives in the cul de sac to a new world of excitement.

What we didn't know then and I suppose we couldn't possibly have known with our limited perspective, was that THIS -all of those boring nights walking the streets- would be what we would remember many years later.  The great excitement that we were waiting for never really came around. Eventually, there were boyfriends and cars, jobs and school, colleges and moves.  And while I certainly remember those bigger moments, it is the nights of walking and "waiting for something better" that stand out most in my memories.  Those were the nights that we wished away but also thought would last forever, with friends we knew we would always have. In that magical time, before real life kicked in, we were making memories that were leaving deep imprints on our lives. Those are the moments I wish I could relive.

One night our group watched the great movie "The Big Chill". When it was over, in a rare show of sentimentality we all agreed that would be us in 20 years getting together (minus the dead friend) and hanging out like old times.  If only... We scattered as we went off to different colleges, still getting together here and there but not in the same way.  Then, my family moved to another state- severing the physical connection to my old neighborhood, but not the emotional one.  Our post-college lives led us to different life choices- marriage, grad school, jobs- and various geographical locations. With our physical separation came the inevitable emotional separation.

I miss the old neighborhood.  I miss knowing the names and stories of all who lived there. I long to hang out and walk the streets with my old friends.  I imagine that Carol's dad would still offer to spray us with bug spray before we hit the streets. I think we could still find a frisbee to toss around and a curb to sit on. I know that we would still find big things to discuss and world problems that needed our attention. Under the soft glow of the street light, we would still see our carefree teenage selves and not the middle-aged people we are now burdened with the reality of careers and marriage, children and aging parents, money and disease.  As Carol's parents- one of the last to remain in the neighborhood- prepare to move, even the idea of this reunion becomes more distant.  Our final connection to that time and place will be lost and that makes me feel a little sad.  But, I am also thankful that my special memories allow me to take those little field trips in my mind. In my daydreams, I am happy to be 14 again and this time I know to stop waiting for something more exciting to happen, to pay more attention, this is it- savor it!

Happy Summer, But Why Am I Still Thinking About Winter?

"My scars remind me that I did indeed survive my deepest wounds.  That in itself is an accomplishment.  And they bring to mind something else, too. They remind me that the damage life has inflicted on me has, in many places, left me stronger and more resilient.  What hurt me in the past has actually made me better equipped to face the present."

- Steve Goodier

Happy first day of summer! Sunny skies, warm temps, lush green grass, and a multitude of blooming flowers. Can it be only a few months ago that we were wondering if spring would ever arrive? Thankfully it did and it now appears that the summer-like weather is here to stay (hopefully)!

Earlier in the week, I decided to take advantage of the perfect weather and walk on a trail that I hadn't been on for awhile.  Much had changed since I had last walked there in April.  Trees had fully leafed out, greenery covered most everything, and plants that were nonexistent then were now starting to encroach on the pathway.  As I looked around, all I could see and hear were the beautiful signs of summer.

But yet...

I still remember the harshness of winter.  I can easily recall the long cold days when darkness came too early.  The streak of grayness when it seemed the sun had forgotten to shine. I remember the unrelenting nor'easters of March.  The great delay in warmer temperatures and blooming plants.  I don't think about it often, but I do remember.  Is that wrong?

Should we look back and think about winter when we are in the middle of a glorious summer? Is it self-defeating to take ourselves back to an unpleasant time when we have the current pleasure of good times? I'm not sure.  I certainly don't want to dwell on the cold winter, but is it good to remember that it happened? Does it make us enjoy this summer more knowing what we had to go through to get here?  Is it helpful to know that not too long ago we had a horribly long, cold winter but we survived it? 

If we are to develop resilience, then we need to look back and reflect (not ruminate) on what we have overcome. When winter comes around again and I am feeling like it will never end, I can reflect on the fact that I felt this same way last year and winter did end, and I did survive.

Nature can offer guidance on this.  As I walked through the woods in early April, I could see all of the signs of spring- budding trees, early flowers blooming, birds chirping.  But I could also see the signs of a destructive winter.  Large trees pulled out of the ground, branches broken and dangling over the path, piles of debris from storms.  

 Nature does not try to hide the difficult season it has been through.  The forest bears its scars forever. Trees that are down will stay in that spot until nature reclaims them as part of the earth.  Branch piles remain until they break down into rich soil.  Damaged and misshapen trees continue to stand or lean until they grow tired.

But as time moves on, nature eventually does its work.  Greenery grows, groundcover thrives, and the forest begins the process of reclaiming itself.  The damage becomes less obvious.  The new growth conceals the sharp edges and jagged branches of the damaged trees.  But if you look closely, the scars of winter remain. Nature manages to quietly acknowledge the past while continuing to move forward steadily into the future.

There is a purpose to that. Nature's clean up crew is slow and subtle.  It wants us to see the process, to see the work.  Nature wants us to know that there was once destruction, but "I am doing a new thing!  I am restoring the forest, bit by bit, day by day!"  If we only focus on the beauty and don't look back at the difficulty, we miss the sacred process of renewal, and we miss the gift of restoration.  

Winter may have left its mark, but we have triumphed.  Spring did its thing! Renewal is underway! 

Winter is the example I use here and thankfully we know each year that it will end (eventually), but your personal winter can be any difficulty you've experienced and the end isn't always as guaranteed. When we look back on hard times, we have a choice in how we view the story.  There is power in revisiting the negative event with fresh eyes.  By looking back with purpose we can see:

1-  What we have overcome

2-  What we learned from the experience 

3-  How we have been restored (or how we are still being restored)

This is how we build resilience. When we experience negative events but can look back and see our personal growth, it helps us to view difficulties differently in the future.  Resilience reminds us that we have been through tough times before and we have survived.  It reminds us that we have reserves of strength that we are not yet aware of,  that we are capable of dealing with far more than we think we can, and that we can bounce back from situations that seem insurmountable at times.   

The scars of winter may remain, but the flowers of spring are already starting to grow.  Wait and watch for the restoration and take time to congratulate yourself on surviving another winter!

*Speaking of summer--if you still need to buy a swimsuit, read my post before you go. Consider it a public service announcement ;-).

Swimsuit or Bust

http://www.musingsfromthemidlife.com/2018/03/swimsuit-or-bust.html

Sleep, Wherefore Art Thou Sleep??

I seem to be awake a lot at night.  Is anyone with me on this? From what I hear, this is part and parcel of being a "woman of a certain age".  Grrr...haven't women suffered enough? Do we really need sleeplessness too?

Up until about a year ago, I would have told you that I slept well.  In fact, I might have bragged a little about how well I slept.  After years of sleep interrupted by pregnancy and small children, I had finally hit my groove of being able to sleep through the night.  We had purchased a new memory foam mattress several years back that had changed my life, I had found the perfect pillow, my children were now (finally) sleeping through the night, and I had been put on daily allergy medicine (may cause drowsiness zzzz....).  My bedtime ritual involved putting on my comfiest warm pajamas and socks, climbing into my cozy flannel sheet lined bed, saying goodnight to my husband, rolling over once, and then sleeping until my alarm went off in the morning.  Granted, this was never a long night's sleep- six hours seemed to be the max and I'm sure exhaustion had a lot to do with it-- but it was a pure, deep, peaceful sleep.  The glory days I like to call them.

My how things have changed!

Awhile back, I started having occasional nights where I would wake up in a sweat.  Besides the obvious fact that I was covered in many layers, I started to suspect that there were some hormonal issues at work.  Thankfully those nights didn't come around often, but when they did they were very disruptive.  How could someone who had been cold her whole life suddenly wake up in a sweat? It was rather disorienting.  Kind of like waking up with a different face.  Who am I if not the cold one?? Then, there was this slow but steady increase in my daily base temperature. It wasn't hot flashes exactly (although I have had some of those too), but rather like I was growing warmer by the day.  Was this a new thing?

My nights started to become very unpredictable.  Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.  Sometimes perfectly comfortable, but still frustratingly awake.  I no longer rolled over once and went to sleep, I started tossing and turning a lot each night.  I decided it was time to make some changes.

First, it was the flannel sheets.  As much as I loved the softness and the feeling of getting into a warm bed, I could no longer handle the warmth at night.

Then, it was the comforter.  We had a down comforter for several years and decided maybe it was time to trade it in for a lighter version.

All of the tossing and turning was really bothering my back, so my doctor recommended sleeping with a pillow between my knees (which by the way is NOT what you want when you are hot and tossing and turning).  This restlessness and back discomfort also led my husband and me to suspect that it was time for a new mattress.  Goodbye to my favorite life-changing mattress!

The new mattress did not seem to fix the problem, in fact, I was having even more difficulty sleeping. Perhaps it was time for a new pillow.  Farewell special pillow of my past! Welcome to the long line of new pillows on my bed (or tryouts as I liked to call them).

As I finally settled into my new mattress, pillow, and bedding; I realized that the morning light was really starting to bother me and waking me up well before I was ready (especially after not sleeping well at night), so a sleep mask was added to my nightly routine.

Maybe because I always slept well and didn't notice, but I now also realized my husband snored.  Not all the time, not loudly; but enough to be irritating.  A gentle nudge was usually enough to stop him, but I can tell you when I was tossing and turning the snoring didn't seem all that mild and my nudge wasn't always so gentle.  Ear plugs?  Separate beds?  Different rooms? What's next?

As all of these changes piled up, it became a bit ridiculous.  My bedside had become cluttered with the detritus of my sleep issues- sleep mask, socks (sometimes need them, sometimes can't stand them), water (all that sweating is dehydrating), Kindle for middle of night reading, phone for when the Kindle doesn't work, extra blanket (you never know), various types of sleepwear (depending on what my personal thermostat was), extra pillows, ice packs, hot packs, fan, and the inevitable tangle of sheets and blankets. I finally had to accept--

It's not you, my sweet bed, it's me.  And a nasty case of declining estrogen.  Yikes, it appears I am in the PERIMENOPAUSAL ZONE!!

"Perimenopause is the time period when the ovaries begin to decline in function and continues until menopause has been reached."

Your mother may have referred to this time as "the change of life". This phase covers an undetermined amount of time that starts and ends at its choosing. It could last as long as ten years.  TEN YEARS!!  A few of its delightful symptoms include hot flashes, night sweats, disrupted sleep, weight gain, and mood changes. I won't even mention the other very specific things that happen to a woman's body :-0!! Doesn't that sound like fun?  I can tell you that my mood definitely changes when those things are happening to me!

While it is my desire to take all of this in stride, it is not always easy.  I can change the kind of clothing I wear to accommodate my ever-changing temperature, I can keep the thermostat at a refrigerator setting, I can happily switch to wearing pants with adjustable waistbands if I have to, but to give up a good night's sleep is almost too much to ask! I know women are strong and that's why we are given the gift of childbearing, but it would seem to me that the additional but related "gifts" of the starting and stopping of menstruation and ALL that goes along with it are just too much.  Insomnia too?  There must be a mistake! Surely God didn't intend for us to suffer all of these indignities in addition to normal aging issues?? Gravity and wrinkles would have been enough!  Clearly, some of these ailments should have been directed to the men, right? Why should us women have ALL of the fun?

The best way to get through all of this is with the support and humor of your girlfriends.  They understand (or they will soon understand) why you wear a tank top in the middle of winter and accept that your house is the temperature of an ice box.  They will pretend not to notice when your midsection swells and will be with you as you shop for looser, floaty styles. They will nod knowingly when you complain about not sleeping and will kindly offer you tips on undereye concealer.  Your girlfriends will tell you the things you hate to ask your doctor about, but really, really need to know.  They will be with you as you laugh and cry (and sometimes pee) with greater frequency, sometimes in the same minute. Your girlfriends will be the ones to share tips on what herb to try, or what medicine to avoid.  They will clue you in on what things helped them or what made it worse. We will all get through it together somehow- maybe just a little sweatier, crabbier, and sleepier than we once were.

 My advice to the men in our lives-- read up on what to expect, be understanding and supportive, try to do what we say,  don't dare change the thermostat, stay away from our chocolate, and whatever you do, don't cross us! All of that not sleeping makes us a little bit crazy :-).

See Wonder, Not Weeds

Spring seems to have officially arrived- hallelujah! The warmer temps, abundant sunshine, and ample amounts have rain have done their job.  The yard is growing and plants are blooming at long last! With all of that new growth comes a little bit of yard anxiety for me.  The list of spring yard work is long- there is grass that needs to be cut, weeds that need to be pulled, crabgrass that needs to be controlled, trees and shrubs that need to be trimmed, perennial beds that need to be cleaned out, and mulch that needs to be spread.  Although the end result is a labor of love for me, sometimes in the process when my back hurts and my allergies flare, and the to-do list seems way too long; I can forget the love and just see the labor.

Over Mother's Day weekend, I dodged the raindrops and purchased flowers for the pots on my backyard patio.  Completing the pots is always a big item on my list, so when I finally planted the last one and hung my hanging basket of flowers I felt a sense of accomplishment.  However, it was a short-lived victory.  As I looked around I could see about 10 more things that I needed to do that I wouldn't be able to do because of the weather.  I went inside feeling frustrated partly because I couldn't just enjoy what I HAD accomplished and partly because I really wanted to do more.

Later that day my husband was out with our dog and he saw a lady and her young daughter walking on the path behind our house.  At some point, the little girl stopped and looked at our yard and said "Wow, look at that. That yard is a wonder!"  The mom paused to take a closer look, made a positive comment, and then they continued on their way.  At dinner, my husband shared the story with me because he thought I would appreciate the sweet words of this little girl.  Now, there is no question that my yard is not a wonder.  Yes, it is landscaped and I like to plant flowers, but no reasonable adult would make that assessment. It is comical that this little girl chose that word, but for whatever reason, she saw something that caught her eye and captured her imagination.  It was clear that she wasn't seeing what I was seeing when I looked at the yard. She didn't see the long list of projects that still needed to be done, she was enjoying what was already there.

Her comment stuck with me.  Later on in the week, I walked on the path and looked at my house from her perspective.  Did I see anything magical? No, but I also didn't see the weeds that needed to be pulled or the moss growing on the patio, or the little patch of poison ivy growing in my perennial garden.  I did notice the pretty pink flowers that I had just planted and the colorful hanging basket above my garden.  I took in the incredible lushness of the grass and the trees that you see only in the springtime.  I saw how much my new garden area had filled in since last year with the promise of many new flowers. Nothing had changed in my yard since a few days earlier, only in my mind.  Once my perspective changed, so did my view.  

This is an ongoing lesson for me and many others. We want to have a positive perspective and enjoy what's happening in the moment, but somehow it seems to be easier to focus on the to-do list, what's missing, or what's next.  There is a continuing struggle to stay positive and not let the negative pull you in. Oftentimes it takes a tragedy to focus our attention on what matters. What do we do when we need a change of perspective? We need to put on a pair of perspectacles-magical glasses that give you the power of perspective! Wouldn't it be nice to slip on the glasses when we sense we need an attitude adjustment?

Ok, so we probably aren't going to find these magic glasses in our local CVS. It would be so much easier if we could! 

*I once have something close- a pair of sunglasses that were tinted in such a way to make everything look more colorful, more rosy, and more beautiful than they really were.  I called them my rose colored glasses and I'm pretty sure the time I had those were some of my happiest years!*

But what can we do when we need a new perspective? In my case, a comment from a stranger helped change my view.  The little girl made me question what I was seeing and wonder how I could see what she saw. But, I also took the time to physically change my point of view.  It's like looking in the magnifying makeup mirror every day.  Sure, you get an up close look at all that needs to be "fixed", but you also have to take a step back and look at the long view to see how everything looks as a whole.  By taking the long view of my garden instead of the close-up view, I was able to look past the minor flaws and focus on the greater beauty.  I still have the same to do list that I had before, but it feels different.  Now I can see the wonder too, and not just the weeds. 

I hope to apply this lesson to other areas of my life.  It always seems to be easier to see the weeds, but it is so much better to look for the wonder.  We don't have control over many things in this life, but we can control what we choose to look at and more importantly what we choose to see.  Let's use our perspectacles to help us see the truth, beauty, love, peace, joy, kindness, and goodness that surround us every day.  They are always there, you just have to be willing to look in the right place.

 

Freshman Year Complete- A Journey Home and A Journey Back in Time

Last week my husband and I drove to Ohio, packed up my daughter and her dusty dorm room, and brought her home. It was quite an accomplishment for all of us!  Claire survived her freshman year and so did we :-).  As we were packing up her belongings, it felt like we had just unpacked them and set her up in her cozy (tiny) dorm room for the first time. Yet, time being the trickster that it is, it also felt like a lifetime ago that we had obsessed over sheets and comforters, storage bins and organizational tools. Here she was in her room looking like she had done this for years. Could it be only 9 months ago that we wondered if she was prepared? Could it be only 9 months ago that I wondered if I would ever feel complete again? Thankfully the answer to both was a resounding yes. 

After the packing and cleaning were complete, we did one last walk around campus.  There was time to use a few more meal swipes and purchase a few more pieces of college swag.  The campus felt more comfortable, familiar, smaller even that it had a year ago during orientation.  After we settled into the packed van for the long drive home, with the stress of packing behind us and the monotony of the drive still ahead of us; we got to hear her thoughts on her first year of college.  We heard her talk about the great relationship she had with her roommate and the new room they will share in their sorority next year. We heard the excitement in her voice as she talked about future plans to study abroad. My heart soared as she shared stories of new friends she had met and their tentative plans to get together this summer.  We listened quietly as she talked about the challenge of learning new topics at such a quick pace and the way she adjusted her study habits accordingly. We excitedly nodded as she told us about a new program she had joined and was looking forward to next year.  

There was no way we could reasonably express with words our pride, our relief, and our excitement that her freshman year had gone so well.  Of course, that had been our hope and expectation, but the first year doesn't always go that way.  There are plenty of kids who struggled through their freshman year and who went home early, decided to transfer, or stuck it out without such great memories. We were overwhelmingly thankful for the positive experience she had and exhaled with relief in a way that we hadn't in a long time.  Eventually, the long car ride took its toll and my daughter dropped off into a well deserved post-finals nap.  My thoughts drifted back many years to my own trip home from campus after freshman year. 

I have surprisingly few memories of packing up my belongings and cleaning up my dorm room, but I do remember that my dad was the one to drive me home for the summer.  I remember getting into the loaded car and settling in for the nearly 2 hour drive home.  In an uncharacteristic display of talkativeness, I shared with my dad how wonderful my year had been.  I talked about the friends I had made and all that I had learned.  I marveled at the variety of people I had met and how exciting it was to know people of so many different life circumstances.  I can still remember the pure joy as I shared my thoughts with him. Going away to college was the single most life-changing thing that had happened to me up to that point in time.  I was bursting with excitement as I shared my experience with him.  Unfortunately, I can't recall what he said.  My memory fills in the conversation with words of acknowledgment and a few "that's great baby's".  For some reason, I long to know what he was thinking at that moment.  Was he feeling proud? Was he happy for my experience? Did he think I was being overly dramatic in that way that only 19 year olds can be? Was he tired and wishing I would stop talking?!?  Did he worry that I was changing too much, too fast and fear that I was growing away from him? I wonder.

I wish I could ask him. My dad has been gone for 12 years now and the moments of instinctually reaching for the phone to call him have mostly passed.  But for whatever reason, this moment with my daughter brought up an intense desire to know.  Did he feel the same mix of emotions that I felt? I like to think that I know how he was feeling but the truth is that I don't. For now, how he felt will remain a question mark in my mind and his thoughts will remain his alone. Maybe the expression of our feelings is never as clear to others as we think that it was.

As we continued our drive, my thoughts returned to the present. I found myself sneaking glances at my daughter. How I had missed her sweet face! I wanted to soak it all in and refamiliarize myself with the details of her face- slightly different, more mature somehow, the angles a little less sharp, same beautiful dark eyes.  As we talked, I could see that my "little girl" still had her same lively personality and infectious sense of humor.  Much felt exactly the same. Yet, I could also see her growth and maturity. What I couldn't assess was how she felt on the inside.  Did she feel like she had grown? Did life look different to her after a year away from home? I'm sure over the coming weeks the differences will be more pronounced.  Her newfound independence will bump against my sense of parenting control.  Her newly formed thoughts on different subjects may not always agree with mine.  Our town will definitely feel smaller and less exciting than a college campus! But hopefully, she will feel and appreciate the comfort and joy of coming home that will remain with her long after college life is over.

What I hope for her this summer after freshman year is that she will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we love her, we are proud of her, we support what she is doing, we appreciate her efforts,  and we ENJOY her.  Although I can't go back in time and know what my dad was thinking on our drive home after freshman year, I can do my best to make sure that my daughter doesn't have the same questions. I hope she knows the answers and isn't left to wonder.

Observations from Vacation

I was excited to get away last week for some time at the beach- my favorite place! The quiet time allowed me to sit back and make some vacation observations.

While I am certainly drawn to the sun and warmth this time of year, there is something equally compelling about the ocean.  The enormity of the ocean grounds me. I feel connected to the power of the earth and the regularity of the tides. The ocean is so sure of itself, powerful in its consistency.  It does not look back to the seas of yesterday and apologize for what was.  It is present and steadfast. The ocean starts off fresh each day knowing that the goal for the day is predetermined- waves will continue to roll in and out.  There is no tomorrow to think about or plan for.  The ancient one has already determined the cycle of the tides. I take comfort in the certainty of the waves, yet I am also intimidated by the power. Standing near the ocean, I am humbled and my place in the vast world is recalculated.

Because we were traveling at an off time, most of the fellow beachgoers were parents with young children, retired couples, or groups of older women (who were traveling together or whose husbands were golfing).  We are none of those :-).  For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel like we quite fit in. We are decidedly midlifers. This is not exactly bad, just different. As I watched the young parents play in the sand with their little ones, I felt a stab of emotion. Such sweet times for these young families and they have so much joy ahead of them.  But, I also felt a quiet sense of relief.  There was no one to chase around.  There was no one I had to protect from drowning or sunburn or sea creatures :-).  I could truly let go and relax.  Nothing to do but listen to the snippets of conversation drifting by.

As I listened to the conversations of the older people around us, I heard wonderful stories of traveling and making the best of life.   I saw sisters laughing with each other on girl's trips and wives enjoying the beach while their husbands played golf.  I also heard stories about people with serious health issues, and those dealing with the loss of their spouses.  One woman was just recently diagnosed with cancer and was on the phone with her doctor considering treatment options. All served as a stark reminder that life is short.  We are blessed with today and if God is willing and we are given many more years to live, we hope to do so as actively as possible.  Although we don't have control over many things, we can do our best to take care of our health.  Seeing people live an active life in their older years is motivation to work out even when I don't feel like it.

Sitting under our cabana on the beach,  I realized that my husband and I would go through long periods of time without conversation.  We were both reading books, people watching, napping.  After listening to me talk (too much) about the book I was reading, and me listening to him talk (at length) about the architecture and layout of the building; I'm sure a little quiet was appreciated! It is another gift of this time that we can sit in companionable silence.  There is no need to fill every moment with conversation.  We don't have to provide a running commentary on what the girls are doing, or what the schedule is on any given day.  He no longer thinks my silence is a sign of discord, he recognizes that silence is part of who I am. It is a sign of maturity in our lives and our relationship that we can enjoy each other's company without saying a word.  

We continue to get comfortable with this new stage of life.  When everything seems to be changing, and life looks much different than it used to, I am so thankful for the constants.  Maybe that is why the beach seems to have a stronger hold on me these days.  When I return to the beach and see the sand and the water, I am once again connected to the greater rhythms of life.  Leaving behind the daily rituals of parenting and school life can cause you to feel a bit unmoored.  Watching the waves, I can feel myself settling into the calming rhythm of a world that has always been and will continue to be. Whatever my circumstances, the world keeps turning and the ocean keeps churning. There is comfort in that.  I will continue to seek that reminder. 

Parenting- The Next Chapter

Parenting is a hard gig.  From the sleepless nights of babyhood to the endless worries of the teenage years, being a parent always requires solving new and unexpected problems.  For every one parenting success I celebrate, there are two more new challenges that take me back to feeling like a new parent again.  Thank goodness for stacks of parenting books that help guide us through the different stages!

 After surviving the high school years with two daughters, I am now learning to navigate the college years.  Once past the emotionally wrenching parts of saying goodbye, getting used to them being away, and giving up your sense of control; you can see something that you haven't seen before--your actual young adult! 

The high school years are so full and busy- practices, homework, clubs, hobbies, social outings, jobs, driving, college prep, and plenty of emotional and physical changes.  It is sometimes all we can do to keep up with the day to day. Life becomes about "the schedule" and who needs to be where at what time, and who has eaten and who hasn't, and who needs to see which doctor, and who is currently having an emotional crisis and who is stable for the moment! 

 With the clock ticking down to college, it is easy to start seeing every misstep or perceived weakness in your child as something that needs to be "fixed" before they leave. During my daughters' junior years of high school, I distinctly remember thinking that I only had a year left to teach them everything they needed to know before they left home.  No pressure there! By the time I dropped them off at college, I was keenly aware of everything I hadn't gotten to yet- my unfinished list of life skills and lessons was sure to cause them trouble.  I had failed them. How were they going to survive away from home if I hadn't taught them everything?

This is a well-meaning, but misguided approach.  Of course, I couldn't teach them everything they needed to know- that's not my job, and not possible, just for starters.  The significant downside to this approach is that it sets up a dynamic of looking for the holes in their knowledge and experience and searching for their flaws in an effort to "fix them", and not always seeing and appreciating them just as they are.

Once my girls settled into college life, and I could finally see that they were ok; I started to relax a little.  They were surviving, they were doing well in their classes, they knew how to manage themselves, they were responsible, they were willing to ask for help when they needed it (mostly).  They figured out how to handle laundry and health issues, and airports and Ubers. The inevitable setbacks occurred and they bounced back. While they are still learning life lessons (just like I am) in addition to all that they learn in class, they are doing ok and making it through. And, what they don't know, they are figuring out!

So now, I am beginning to see the upside of this stage in parenting.  Relieved of the daily burden of scheduling, feeding them, keeping them alive, and righting all of the perceived wrongs; I can finally see and appreciate my children for who they are becoming. It is a gift! On a recent trip, I was able to step back and really enjoy them as people.  At 18 and 20, they didn't really need me to "manage" them, so I didn't (mostly :-)). The view was much different from that perspective!

What I saw were two developing adults who I could talk to and share things with. Two young women with specific interests of their own.  Young women who knew how to be a good friend to others and who had good friends of their own.  Capable, mature, kind, hard working. With my older daughter, we talked about current events and tried to solve a few world problems.  We enjoyed discussing books we had read. We discussed possible next steps with her education and career.  With my younger one, we shared our love of sun and warmth.  We talked about food and cooking. We took a lot of pictures of dinner, sunset, and scenery and enjoyed sharing them with each other. Although still very much a parent/child relationship, it was clear that we had crossed into new territory where we could also relate on a new level. Not exactly friends, but friendlier and more relaxed.

 While I know my parenting duties are far from over, I accept that the daily task of parenting has ended. New challenges await all of us. My role will (hopefully) shift to trusted advisor.   My hope is that my children will continue to share their problems with us, as well as share any exciting new opportunities.  While we will always be available to help them however we can, there is an increasing recognition that there are things that they will have to do on their own.  Problems that will need to be solved, decisions that will have to be made, and issues that will require their focus alone. Even if I would like to solve every problem for them, it is not possible nor is it advisable.

But for today, I am...relieved, comforted, and cautiously optimistic that despite my lapses and my many misguided moments of parenting, my girls have made it to this point and they have become who they are.  I am so thankful for who they have always been. Because for as much as I have tried to teach them over the years, they have always taught me way more! I'm looking forward to continuing to learn on this great journey of parenting.