The Long Wave Goodbye - by Cyma

Today, I waved to my daughter riding away on the bus. The silly kind of wave – two arms, as if flagging down a passing ship. We both continued waving until the bus was out of sight. Walking back to my house, I had a lump in my throat. I am sad.

I guess I’m sad for the lack of these experiences with my own mother; sad for the time which is passing so quickly; sad, too, that I see that my parenting must be working well – my own daughter still longs for me. I did not have that with my own mother. I will continue to try my hardest to fulfill that need, until her hands stop reaching for mine, the arm waves stop and I see her waving to her friends, not me. That time is coming. In fact, it’s just around the corner.

Writer Kelly Salasin recently blogged, “There are so many deaths in mothering, beginning at the beginning, and arriving every day after. But equally matched with these deaths are the blessings of a new life – new growth – new possibility.” These words are haunting me. I spent so much time trying to keep things the same. Having kids changed that. I spent so much time trying to live the same life. Having kids changed that. I spent all my time trying to keep people out, and keeping my life (force) in. Having kids changed that, too.

When my children arrived, I listened to little that people said. Everyone had advice, even if mostly unsolicited. They didn’t understand the traumas we all adjusted to; they didn’t understand the struggles we’d all had just to get here. But, the one thing I heard and followed was to ‘cherish these times wisely.’ (Translation: be in the now). I say this daily. I pray with these words.

So, the next time the bus drives away from our house, I will wave with gusto, count all my blessings, and cry if I need to. I’m in the now of my life.