Do I miss my kids’ school years? Not really, but when everyone starts talking about “back-to-school” season, I have a little pang of nostalgia for that time in my children’s lives. Mostly, I think it is because of the connections I made with other parents whom I no longer see, and also because I no longer have unlimited access to their lives. The time I spent as a room-mom, field trip chaperone, party planner, booster club president, and scout leader was time I got to spend with Christen and Steven. It’s a time I will always treasure, and I’ve always felt a little sad for parents who don’t get to experience it.
Being the parent of grown children is just as hard as raising them during those school years, but for a different set of reasons. Letting them go to build their own lives and find their own way is something many parents struggle with long after they’ve graduated high school or even college. Mark and I always took great pride in the fact that we raised our children to be independent. Mark often said his most significant task as a parent was to make himself “obsolete.” It’s true. We want our kids to grow up as confident, self-sufficient, and responsible human beings who don’t really need us. But what happens when we still need them?
A parent’s life changes drastically as soon as their child heads off to college or moves out. Some of the changes are subtle, but many have lifelong consequences. When my youngest moved off to college, I suddenly had lots of time on my hands. I had spent a good part of his school years volunteering in any capacity I could. I was a stay-at-home mom, and it was through this role that I learned to make friends in a new city where I knew no one. But then, he was gone, and the things that filled most of my time were gone, too. Mark had it a lot harder. He missed his buddy and his initial reason for becoming a Boy Scout Leader. Even though we were missing the same person, our responses to the loss were very different. Luckily, I became involved in a mother’s club at Steven’s school, and it helped fill that gap because I could meet new parents and make new friends. I also started a business that kept me busy at least part-time. Mark decided to stick with the Boy Scouts and maintained his position as Scoutmaster for 8 years before stepping into an Assistant Scoutmaster position to let someone else take the reins. He remained active in the troop until shortly before he passed. I think the other boys were, in some ways, a substitute.
Other changes included cooking for fewer people, having to reallocate the chores that Steven was responsible for, and discovering that there’s no one to make that last-minute run to the store for milk when you run out. Even the dog was sad – her play buddy was gone.
It’s no wonder some parents have a hard time letting go. Change is scary. There is a very real fear that something might happen to them if we aren’t there to protect them. Or that in setting them free, they may pull away completely and never come back.
Luckily for most parents, time heals, and you get used to new routines. New hobbies find time to be explored, and you are grateful that life has become a bit more consistent…more relaxed. You might even find a routine through which you get to spend time with your kids, either individually or as a family. You appreciate your children in different ways. You connect as adults. Your bonds might even strengthen. And then things start to change again.
As you age and your social life slows, those connections to your children change, deepen, and become vital to your well-being, especially in the face of grief and loss. I’ve talked about grief and loss a lot lately because I live it every single day. I’ve also spent a good deal of time talking and writing about COVID and how it upended our lives. Talk about anxiety! But losing my husband, Mark, 18 months ago, was the single-most impactful event of my life since the birth of my children. Not only did I go from having too many people in the house who were always underfoot to being virtually alone, but I lost my best friend, confidant, helpmate, and biggest supporter. I lost my person, and that’s about as alone as you can get. There is no one to get that thing off the top shelf or go up in the attic to get that box you stored there. There is no one to open the lid that you can’t get off the jar or to give you a ride to pick up your car from the mechanic. There’s no one to hold your hand before you have surgery or to tend to you when you are sick.
So, yes, you start to miss those days of yore when your kids were at home and you could call on them for help. You miss the days when you could invite them out for a banana split to celebrate a little win at work. You miss knowing that they will be there when you need them…because you do need them. After all, they are the ones who are supposed to love and take care of you as you grow older and need more help, just as you did for them when they were young and unable to care for themselves. And for many of us, they are the only family we have left. In a very real sense, they are all you have.
I miss my kids needing me. I miss being an everyday part of their lives. I don’t like depending on them for things because I know they have busy lives and many responsibilities. But I need them just the same, and I hope that, maybe just a little bit, they still need me, too.
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