Letter to Lynn

I've been going through some old files this morning, and came across this. I wrote it for my oldest daughter when she finished high school and left for college:

Letter to Lynn

They say
old habits die hard
and
mothering you
is one of the

oldest habits

I've got.

Not that I've ever done
a whole lot
of mothering
...a little listening
some saws of sage advice
(not too many I hope)

I taught you
to throw
a good tantrum
(You learned well)
passed on to you
my love of books
and ideas
(occasionally strange ideas)

Most of all
I tried
to sit back
and let you be you
(occasionally I forgot).

I suppose what I did
(or didn't do)
couldn't have been
too wrong
because I like
you
a lot,
And I think
I'm going to miss
having you around,
when the dishes
are dirty
or the living room
needs vacuuming
or I'm too tired to cook,
but, also
when I read
a good book
or hear a new
idea
and want
to share it
with someone
who can hear
and see
what I see.

But mostly
I'm going to
miss you
because
you still
have so much
to teach me.

Love,
Mom

Ann Levingston Joiner
1985

That is good, Ann. And I think it is full of any mother's feelings as the nest becomes empty. Of course, there are those mothers who are eager to be out from under their 'monsters', but I would guess there aren't too many of those.

That was beautiful, Ann.

I sure get tied up in knots about those things. For a while I couldn't figure out my sadness when my children were grown and on their own when that was what was supposed to happen.

Love, Carol

I had a dream around the same time. It was one of those mixed-up dreams. The house was a combination of several houses we had lived in. One item I particularly remember was the den rug from the house we lived in when Lynn was born. There was this tiny baby bird sitting on it, and I had this tremendous fear that it was so small that someone culd walk through and crush it without even knowing it was there. It had me so shook that I told my kids still at home about it the next day. As soon as Susan said, with a little exasperation, "Mom, your baby bird just left it's nest," I got the dream.

I told the story to a friend who was our school counselor. Her comment was, "Why do you think we call it the "empty nest syndrome."

Ann

And now I am dealing with children whose children are leaving the nest and watching as they struggle with the same issues. It isn't the same for a grandma, though. Grandchildren just seem to still be there the same as ever. I just don't have to baby-sit with them anymore. But one grandson who is 21 kept coming over to "hang out with us" during his break from the university. We have a serious Scrabble competition going on and he keeps trying to win, but we play every day and are really good, so it is quite a challenge and he'll keep coming until he wins, so we've got to keep improving!

Carol