SaysMe: Thanks. Not only did you not say anything wrong but you are very right. I tried to write a poem about my other source of pain but it didn't work. It starts off in one rhythm and goes to another and ends as a narrative. I could NOT bring myself to feel my words so they are choppy. It is not even a sad topic and yet it leaves me so hurt. I am entering a new phase of having 5 teenagers in my house and my role has changed drastically. It is a transition of phases and it is FINE. But I am struggling with being THRILLED that my boys are growing, and being devastated that they don't "need me" like they used to. I am printing it anyway cuz nobody here will laugh at me :) Take the message, even though I cannot get it to come out right. It's a topic I haven't seen before and many of you can probably relate from the "other side"
Holding them near while letting them go
Totally dependent they start out their lives,
Looking to you for their every need.
Holding them in your arms for months as they learn to survive in the world around them.
They toddle away, but never too far,
Back to your arms when they tire or they thirst.
They know they are safe and they know they are loved and they love to be close to your heart.
They sit on your lap, they lay in your bed, they roam but they always come back.
They know they are safe when you’re somewhere near by. They leave but they always come back.
Spending year after year with a boy in my arms.
Holding onto me tight as I went through my day.
Then they grew tall and broad as they entered their teens
They’re mine and I know that they care
But it’s just not the same as it was.
Thank Gd I am no longer the center of their universe, the answer to their problems or their source of food.
They have friends, they have the car, they have each other.
They have me, too, when they need me.
They call and they share and they listen and talk.
They ask me questions and they share their dilemmas
But no hugs, and certainly no kisses, not during these ‘awkward’ years
And when they are quiet and their sentences are short the rejection runs cold thru my veins.
The maturing and independence that I davened for leaves me empty and sad.
Though we remain very close, and they are baffled by my misperception of their distance
I miss them. Though they are right here.
Closer than they ever were. But my need to give, pulls me to want to be needed.
My misconception that not being needed means not being loved.
My poor self confidence wants them to want me, to depend on me.
But I don’t want that. I want what is good for them. I strive to feel valuable when I am not giving . It is my own struggle, the hole is a figment of my imagination. It comes from the belief that if they see other mothers, they will find out what they are missing. That if they are not hungry, I will have nothing to offer. That if they can stand on their own, they might choose another place in which to stand.
But they are here, and they are mine, and my struggles are not their thoughts.
And I fight not to make it their burden, for they would not understand. I am their mother. And they love me. And one day, when they are men, and their babies are in their arms, they will hug me again. And I will wonder why I ever doubted them.