Posted in Milestone Moments, Teens

Tall. Taller. Tallest.

Posted on by Kelly (of rituals)

imagesI’ve watched it happen. I’ve waited for it to happen. I’ve measured it repeatedly. Measured us against one another.

And he’s come close. But I’ve remained. His mother. Taller. By a lot. And then a little. And a little less. And a little less than that.

Until today.

I saw it coming…

He’s been home sick. On the couch. His neck. His chest. Some how broadening, right there, in front of me. His back, his silhouette, becoming a man’s, swiping the child inside.

This morning I sat in the kitchen, and he passed me, noticing… something.

“You look small,” he said. “Stand up so that I don’t feel so tall.”

And I did.

And then, we did, what we’ve done, all year long.

Stood back to back.
Called for someone to come compare us.

It was his older brother who broke the news. We held our breaths. He chided his younger brother to stop tilting his head to make himself taller. And then he spoke the words that I’ve been waiting for. Been resisting. Known would come.

“Aidan is taller.”

A wide grin broke across my 13 year old’s face.

I took a seat.

(Tears sprung to my eyes.)

Posted in Quotes 2 Inspire, What's Next? (18 & beyond)

Parenting into Adulthood

Posted on by Kelly (of rituals)

“In order to help loved ones, you may need to let go of trying to rescue them. It may twist your heart up and frustrate you to no end to stand by while they fumble the ball, to contend with the awful truth that love cannon conquer all, that you can’t do it for them, and sometimes the best you can do is hold their hand while they suffer. Love isn’t like pulling someone from a burning car or saving him or her from drowning. The drama of a loved one’s need is much more complex than that and demands that you weigh right action from wrong action, support from sabotage. There is love that enables and love that disables, and only a tortuous judgement call determines which is which.

(Gregg Levoy, Callings)

Posted in Fragile Life, Mid-Life Mama, Milestone Moments, My own childhood, Teens, What's Next? (18 & beyond)

Beloved

Posted on by Kelly (of rituals)

She felt motherhood slipping away, like an ice cap, slowly melting over time, and then suddenly breaking apart, drifting further and further…

Knuffle-Bunny-300x226Alone, at a children’s book museum, she released silent tears, as she read Knuffle Bunny Free to herself.

She had read the first in this series: Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale to her youngest when he was just a boy. Then there was Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity ; and finally: Knuffle Bunny Free: An Unexpected Diversion–where the beloved Knuffle Bunny is lost yet again, and not grieved so much, as released.

Just this week her youngest son found his own lovey–a penguin–lost amidst the covers of his bed. He guessed he had been there for weeks. Without noticing. Without crying for help. Without the imperative of finding his Pengie.

Her older son was off to college and his kitty, Slimmy, once a treasured companion, now sat on a bookshelf, beside cologne and cds, in a vacant room.

Her own puppy, Mine, was similarly stowed, without the daily attention its weathered body received all those years ago.

And then she wondered, what becomes of Beloveds like these, when WE ourselves are gone?