A Gift for Both of Us

My daughter was cleaning out her room to get ready for my move to Santa Fe. She had collected so much stuff! Her “maybe” pile from last month became today’s “give away” pile. The framed print of an ivy covered stoop in Italy went into the give away pile while her green, velvet ice skating skirt and first pair of shoes were keepers. I watched, listened, and dragged trash bags to the garage.

After feeling nostalgic, I started to feel sad. My role as a mother has been the most profound and important one in my life. I savor and enjoy being the matriarch and the special one who the kids turn to for love and encouragement. The one person among all others who will always root for them and care, who sees them in shining light regardless of their accomplishments or failures. Part of the natural tendency to nurture is seeing myself as the keeper of memories and possessions. Was I really responsible for preserving their childhoods? Can I separate being the caretaker of their things from my role as mother? Can I honor the changes in my relationship with them as they have became adults?

I confided in my daughter and told her how I felt. After all, if I want them to be open and vulnerable with me, I have to share my honest feelings with them. She was understanding and reminded me how right this move is for me, and how excited she is to visit me. And then she said the most reassuring thing. She said that having all of her possessions in her home made her feel good. She was ready to take on the responsibility for herself and her things. It made her feel like an adult. It seems that none of our talks about becoming an adult were as meaningful as this transference of things to her watch. Being present while she stepped into her own power. Changing of the guards. It seems that the emotional process of separating and reassigning was a gift for both of us.

Go figure!