Mothering adult children has been a perplexing inner dilemma...of what to do and when, and when to hold on and when to let go.
Letting go doesn't mean I don't care. Letting go means I care enough to let them be free. Free to choose, free to experience, free to learn and to grow, free to make choices that suit their needs.
Letting go means letting them do their lives...
I think, I thought, letting go meant giving up.
I also think, the letting go that I experienced was that I was cast out in the careless sea. I wasn't let go for my own good, but let go when I was too small...before I was ready to make it on my own.
So, to me letting go is scary and fearful.
Letting go in a healthy way, means to allow...to release my grip on their lives.
My middle daughter turned 23 today. She has made wonderful choices in her life...clearly showing me how capable she is in finding her way, in her time, doing what she feels is best for her. And yet I worry, fret, think, conjure up situations out in the future, that I can't possibly know. I get lost in the tangle of her life choices...wanting to protect and keep her from 'harm'.
However, if I had my way today, I myself would have caused harm in stepping into her life unasked. But the Universe protected her from me, in small ways, like the printer not working...etc. It spared her from my 'knowing' best.
In giving up, and allowing, I can be a woman without control of her world, and just someone cheering her on as she makes the best choices for herself.
I should know by now, that my 'good intentions' are really control issues and my fears.
Letting my children decide isn't caring less, but actually caring more.
Letting them have a voice and a choice based upon their feelings, not mine.
As I let it all go today...I felt free from the responsibility and was once again free in my world and it left her free in hers. Happy Birthday Honey...I love you. Letting you be you...is what love means to me.
