Wednesday, February 22, 2017

A Son is a Son

"A son is a son 'til he takes him a wife, but a daughter's a daughter for all of her life." - Anon

When I was little, my mom would repeat that old rhyme to me over and over.  I think it was her way of finding perfection in the fact that she produced three daughters and no sons.  As the mother of only one child, a son, I've always wanted to believe that the rhyme was silly.  I wouldn't lose Jacob when he married.  He wouldn't ignore me or see his wife as a replacement for me.  We have been joined at the heart for twenty-five years.  Nothing could change that.

Jacob hasn't married yet.  There is no new woman who has stolen him from me but I'm starting to wonder if there is some merit to the old rhyme.  Maybe it's not that a son is a son 'til he takes him a wife, but a son is a son 'til he takes him a condo.  He moved a week and a half ago and he has yet to initiate contact.  No text messages, no calls, no coming home for dinner on the Family Day weekend.  I am hurt and I am sad but I don't know what to do about that.  It's my pain but it's not my play.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

Empty Nest

“Give the ones you love wings to fly, roots to come back and reasons to stay.” -The Dalai Lama

If I told you that my back is sore or that my shoulder is aching, would you tell me to just stop feeling the pain?  Of course you wouldn't, so I keep wondering why so many people have been telling me these last couple of weeks to stop feeling what I'm feeling about Jacob moving out.  I'm fairly bright.  I know it was my job to get him to the point where he would fly.  Yes, I gave him roots and yes, I gave him wings.  Yes, I'm happy for him.  Yes, I know it is good for him to be out on his own.  Yes, it is healthy.  And yes, I am SAD.  Telling me to stop being sad does not make me any less sad, it just adds to my burden.  I guess I'm not feeling the correct emotions.  If it makes you feel better, I'll add it to the list of the many things I've failed at but please, if you are one of those people, stop telling me about it.

Yesterday was moving day.  For a month I've been buying everything I think he will need to be comfortable in his new condo.  He got the keys on Tuesday night and reported that though a cleaning crew was supposed to have gone through it, it looked pretty dirty to him.  So on Thursday morning, armed with a couple of hundred dollars worth of cleaning supplies, his Aunt Cath and I headed downtown to rectify the situation.  I really expected that the two of us could clean an empty unit in a couple of hours.  It is so tiny that he is going to need to step outside to change his mind.  But I under-estimated the level of filth.  So after five hours of cleaning, we headed home with a plan to resume Friday morning.  After another full day of cleaning on Friday, we were finally comfortable that even if it wasn't quite where we wanted it to be, it was at least clean enough that he could move in.  While the guys moved his things in yesterday, I cleaned some more.  Tomorrow I will head off to Canadian Tire to buy some replacement pieces for the stove and kitchen fan.  I'm calling uncle on ever being able to get those pieces clean.  And because they are not as clean as they should be, the condo still smells of curry and grease and that just won't do.

Apart from picking up those things and the things he will need to replace what didn't come back from his university life, like knives and cutlery, there is little for me to do now.  My mothering work is done.  Jacob is a grown man.  I will leave it to him now to figure out how our relationship will unfold.  I hope I will still see him often.  I hope he will come home for dinner or call me to meet him for coffee or just text me to say goodnight like he did in his university days.  I'm stepping back and putting the ball in his court. But for now, I'm feeling my feelings, without apology.