June 22, 2009

Letting Go

We recognized our college graduates
in church on Sunday. We applauded
this milestone in their lives and their
plans for the future. Parents across
the nation are contemplating a major
irreversible change in the parent/child
relationship. They are growing up and
going out on their own.

Letting our children go out on their own
is a complicated emotional enterprise.
I remember the crying jags I went through
during Fran's senior year of high school.
I kept picturing how empty and quiet the
house would be once I was alone in it.
She was going off to college. She was
excited. I was proud of her and happy
for her. But that maternal bond was
strong. Silence and loneliness loomed
on the horizon.

I was her mother. I was certain that she
needed my constant vigilance and
parental guidance. How could she possibly
live without it? On the other hand,
I remembered how eager I was to leave
home when I went off to college. I was
quite certain at the ripe old age 18 that I didn't
need any vigilance or parental guidance.
As Fran packed her bags and prepred to
move out, I tried to comfort myself with that
memory of my own willful independence
at her age. I tried to let go of the internal
maternal bear hug in which I would have
liked to have held her for eternity.

I cried all the way home when I left her
at her dorm room that first year. I cried
constantly for nearly forty-eight hours as
I rattled around the now empty house. The
second morning of being home alone, I awoke
to the quiet without tears. I didn't have
to drive her to school. There were no
music or dancing lessons to remember,
no arguments over what time she needed
to be in or whether or not her homework
was done.

Instead of tears, I suddenly realized
that I was free. I only had my own
schedule to worry about. I could go out
to breakfast. I could go shopping without
arguing over which radio station to listen
to in the car, or which stores to go to in
the mall. I could do things I wanted to do!
Wow! I could be "me" again, instead of
Fran's mother. Maybe letting her go and
trusting her to grow up on her own wasn't
going to be so bad after all.

Lots of parents are starting the transition
of letting go now. Sitting through their
son's or daughter's graduation being pleased
and proud, while at the same time feeling
fearful and sad. We wonder what the future
holds, worry about how to stop being
the parent who protects and provides; and
become a parent who can "let go and let
God."

We go through this "letting go" transition
in many relationships as we come to terms
with who people really are and let go of
who they have been in our lives. I remember
when I moved to Rochester to
go to seminary. My sister Becky was
working on her degree at the University of
Rochester. We had always had a close
bond. But I had always been the big sister.
She had always been my baby sister. She
failed to appreciate my affectionate teasing
and persistent reminders that she was my
"baby sister."

I thought I was being funny until the first
time she drove me somewhere. I don't
remember where we were going but she
was driving. I was a nervous wreck
stepping on an imaginary brake pedal
like a driving instructor. It took months
before I could ride with her and trust her
as an experienced driver instead of thinking
of her as my "baby sister." It took a long
time to be able to relate to her as an adult
in her own right, perfectly capable of driving
a car and chauffeuring me around without
any pesky reminders of her "baby sister"
status. I had to let go of her as my baby sister
and embrace her as my sister, friend and
equal.

I crossed this bridge with Fran yesterday.
She's my thirty something daughter. We've
been through a lot of crises and conflict.
The letting go process takes a lot
longer and is a lot harder when the person
in question is your own flesh and blood.

Fran came down for a family gathering for
Father's Day in her new to her car. (Thanks
Bill Hawn!!!) She came to church in Pennellville
and she drove the two of us to Kirby's to meet the
others. We've ridden together before - but I was always
the over-protective mother and back seat driver who
rode in the front seat with her. Yesterday I let go of that
protective parent role and just enjoyed the ride
with my daughter, my friend and my equal.

It took awhile. Because she still annoys me
with her radio roulette routine.
As soon as a song comes on which she
doesn't like, she surfs until she finds a station
playing one she does. But it was her car
and her radio. She can even change stations
with a control on the steering wheel. I didn't
argue. I didn't make fun of her. I waited for
the next station to pop up and accepted that
it would change at her whim. I was quite
amused when she finally did keep one station
on - and it was music from the 40's - music
that BOTH of us enjoy. We had a great ride
and I closed another chapter in the book of
letting go and opened a new chapter on
being a parent to a child who is not a full-
fledged adult.

Of course, our children are always our children.
And, as parents, we'll always feel that we have
the right to tell them what to do - and that by
rights they ought to listen to our wisdom. But
time and again we will come to points at which
we must close another chapter in the book of
letting go. They graduate. The go off to work
or school, get their own place to live, fail to write
home or call or email. We're no longer privvy to
their private life. We have to let go and trust
that we have taught them enough to be on their
own and give them room to become their own
person - a person we will need to respect as
another adult - even though, in our heart of hearts,
we will always wish they were still a child who
needs us.

There will be moments when they will come to
us - and need us to be their parent again -
but only temporarily. They will become parents
themselves and come to us - apologizing for
not understanding what they put us through,
asking us how we did it, determined not to make
the mistakes we made and, in the process,
making mistakes of their own.

Coming to see them and accept them as
grown ups in their own right is a lifelong process.
Though we will always be their parent,
there will always be lessons to learn about
letting go and allowing them to become all grown
up like us.




4th of July

I don't remember when we started doing the
4th of July the way we do. It is a grand open
house event at Dad's. We all bring a dish to
pass: Aunt Fran's potato salad; Aunt Helen's
salt potatoes and chocolate Wake Cake;
Sonya's mac' and cheese, Becky's devilled eggs
and enough others to feed an army.
Everyone is invited by word of mouth. No
formal invitations are sent. No one is ever
turned away. It is always a mystery how
many will show up. And the picnic is held
rain or shine.

Though relegated to the sidelines as a
cheerleader these days, I used to be able
to hit a double or triple to right field - and
catch a pop fly when it came my way too
in the annual softball game. This is a highlight
of any 4th of July gathering - weather permitting.
We don't really keep score and anyone
can play.

Those who are very young, get assistance
with batting and somehow that fielder on
first base never seems to catch the ball
in time to put you out. There's always
someone to guide you to the next base.
And you may not have a clue why you
are running - and some of the youngest
ones have been known to take off for the
swingset before they make it to home base -
but most earnestly listen for instructions and
love the cheers of the crowd when they
finally cross home plate.

Those who can still hit, but are no longer
able to run, may have an assigned runner.
There is then the option - you may take
your base and take your chances - or let
the youngster run the gamut.

Mom used to organize a cutthroat croquet
game. You would think this lawn game
would be calm and civilized. Not when
Uncle Bruce gets hold of a mallet! He
loves to send other balls far afield whenever
he gets the chance. He plays to win and
so did Mom. It was often more exciting to
watch the croquet match than the softball
game. We haven't had one lately. I miss
the mayhem and banter with Uncle Bruce
in the middle of the mix.

Meanwhile there were card games and
conversations going on around the tables
and chairs borrowed from church. There
were hotdogs, hamburgs and sausage patties
on the grill, every condiment under the sun,
any non-alcoholic beverage you could want,
salads, deviled eggs, salt potatoes and
desserts galore. No one went hungry.

I confess that there has been many
a year when I spent the day inside
taking a nap in the recliner and missing
much of the festivities. We are a very
diverse family. If discussions got onto
politics and/or religion, my views were
the minority. It is not a day for arguing,
so I would just excuse myself and go
take a nap. My favorite past time was
playing Scrabble when I could
find a worthy opponent who wasn't
playing croquet or softball.

Fire works often ended the day. When
Fran and I were living there with
Mom and Dad, we used to go to Colgate
University to watch the fireworks. I wonder
if they still have them there. Some years
a car load would go to Sylvan Beach or
Oriskany Falls.

My favorite fireworks memory though -
is the year I was in Lexington, Massachusetts
visiting my best friend who had moved there,
Laurel Dutcher. I missed being home with
the family but I have never seen a more
spectacular display than I did that year
next to the village green where the
Revolutionary War began.

Other years I spent worrying about Fran
as she helped Cory Clark set up for
fire works in and around Edwards. I'm
glad she doesn't do that any more.
But I'm grateful to those who do.
A fire works display is the perfect ending
to any 4th of July celebration.

We often get so enmeshed in our family
celebrations of the 4th of July that we
forget the real holiday. On July 4, 1776
we declared our independence from
Great Britain and began our struggle
to become "the home of the brave and
the land of the free."

July 4, 1776 is the day that the Declaration
of Independence was formally adopted by
our first Congress. It took until August before
it was signed by all. Did you know that
the first celebration was actually on July 8th in 1776?
The Declaration of Independence was read
aloud, city bells rang and many a band played.
I don't know whether or not there were fire works.
It was not declared a legal holiday until 1941.
In 1776 there were 2.5 million Americans.
As of July 4, 2008, there were 304 million.

We are a great nation. We are a diverse
nation. Freedom is the quality we celebrate
on the 4th. Freedom is something we
frequently fail to appreciate. Freedom is
sometimes something we misunderstand.

Freedom from Great Britain, that's what
we gained in 1776. To be our own nation,
making our own laws as well as our own
mistakes.

Freedom is something people around the
world are still fighting and dying for. It is a
privilege we need to appreciate and celebrate.

Appreciating freedom means accepting
the diversity of our nation (as well as our own
families). Freedom means agreeing to
disagree aggreeably about matters such as
politics and religion in order to be the
democracy our founding fathers meant
us to be, and the Revolutionary War allowed
us to be.

There's a quiz online on the Declaration
of Independence - that document which
first proclaimed our freedom. Take the quiz,
It reminds us of the real reason for all the family
gatherings and fire works on every 4th
of July.

http://www.history.com/content/declaration/quiz